Dragon Wars: Rebellion
by RECKLESS SOLDIER-MS
Summary: Ten years before Daylen Amell was born, Thedas was changed forever by the arrival of conquerors from the stars. Thirty years after the occupation began. Daylen and others carry out a desperate plan against the cruel Sith, in a bid to earn their planet's freedom, defy an empire, and light a fire that will spread to a galaxy far, far away.
1. Episode 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Dragon Age

Tore down an old star wars story. And I'm putting up a new one. This time its not Dragon Age characters just dropped into the Star Wars sagas. Thedas is a planet that exists within the universe of Star Wars.

Its an original/mixed timeline with characters from various eras of the Star Wars mythos and legends, but some clarification, timeline wise this takes place after Knights of the Old Republic 2. The focus of this story, is on the Sith empire and where they are currently. 22/12: edited some of the chapters for the next direction I'm taking the story.

* * *

 _A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away_

 **The Sith Triumvirate is dead, order is restored to the republic. Meetra Surik has begun the long task of rebuilding the order and its ties with the republic, broken after the previous council's failed attempt to redeem Revan.**

 **To avoid disaster, Supreme Chancellor Valorum has dismissed Revan as a false Sith and declared the Sith empire extinct and no longer a threat. The Jedi have also retreated to Typhon, birth place of the Jedi, to train a new generation of Jedi knights.**

 **Unbeknownst to both the republic and the Jedi, the true Sith empire is laying conquest to an unknown region world, helpless, and ignorant of the sheer size of the galaxy...**

Space was beautiful and dangerous. Each star, represented a distant world, just waiting to be explored. But within those stars were different types of conflict. Wars that in some systems had been fought for thousands of years, the wars of the rich against the down trodden, the majorities against the minorities, and even wars thought of as fairy tales. The war between the dark side and the light. Two sides that the young men and women were just beginning to learn of.

Space walking was common, the children and teens all stood on a planetoid within the Typhon system. In the far distance, drilling machine worked to mine minerals. Within their bulky space suits, the children looked through their glass visors at the wonder of the stars. For many it was their first time not having the layers of alloys a star ship offered. They were vulnerable, but their young minds thought of only the wonder of adventure.

A wonder that was shattered as the boys and girls of different races, humanoid and alien, looked towards their teacher. She wore the same red space suit they wore, except her belt, as well as having the same space oxygen packs and tow cable roll they had, also had a device strapped to it. The hilt of a weapon that was the signature of her order, and order that the brown haired, middle aged woman was training the young ones to be a part of.

"Now students, can anyone tell me what the force is?" she asked.

One of the human boys raised his hand.

"It's a power that allows Jedi to control minds and move objects without touching them," he said.

The woman shook her head.

"I'd like to establish whilst you will be using the force to move things, that is not what it is. The force is not a power, the force is...well the force, the force that binds all things together. I want all of you to close your eyes and breathe, open your minds, lower your defences and you'll be able to feel it. The force, it binds everything together, guides us," she explained.

"All I see is still a power for moving rocks," one of the students said, grinning as the others laughed.

Meetra Surik shook her head as the students laughed. She was about to lecture them again when she felt something, a disturbance in the force. Looking up at the stars, she saw something, a ship just exiting hyper space. It wasn't any design she was familiar with. Meetra closed her eyes and listened with the force. She widened her eyes in total horror, feeling something she hoped she would never feel again.

"What has happened to you?" she asked.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 1: Beginning a dream

 **Ferelden ended one tyrannical rule, and freed itself, only to once again be conquered by another. The difference between the Orlesian occupation, and the occupation that came afterwards, is that everything changed. Thedas, our continent, our world, it isn't what it used to be. Our world has become a small part of a grand galaxy, a word no one on our planet (consequently a word people also didn't know before) knew until the sky opened. It wasn't a rift, but the clouds parting, it wasn't magic, but something no one knew of before, technology, a star ship.**

The routine was simple, get up, go to Orzammar, dig for lyrium, drop it in and pick up the ration pack for the month. There would be no trouble if he didn't make any, everything would be fine. The elf man felt delicate fingers on his bald head and smiled, turning to his wife, also an elf, more beautiful than any he had seen before.

"Fen wanted to go with you today," Lanaya said.

"He shouldn't go down there, his place is up here, it's bad enough one of us has to go down there," he said.

"Hey," a strong look crossed Lanaya's face.

She pushed her finger against his cheek, turning his eyes to hers, so that he could see her stern look. The look alone was an order, one she always hoped she didn't have to speak. He forced a smile on his face and kissed her, hoping the moment would last longer. But it did end, and he left their family home to go the mines. Where once a grand dwarven city stood, was now a simple mine, the buildings and bridges were broken down, to make way for grand machines. But none of the workers would use them, they were the ones who did the hand work, who picked up the precious little rocks called lyrium. It was the primary reason for the planet wide occupation.

The elf man looked up at the sky, and saw what every person on Thedas saw. In the sky, the grand metallic ships that flew despite their weight, and beyond the sky itself, even grander metal constructs. He walked amongst dwarves, elves, humans and even Qunari, for none were spared from the iron grip of the empire. After a hard day's work, he emerged from the mines dirty, and breathed in the natural air. He walked up to the desk, where an officer took what the miners collected. The human man was dressed in the kind of clothes no one on the planet would have considered fashionable, it was grey and simply shaped, but the bars on his shoulder represented a rank and were as great a symbol of power now as any crown or cross used to be.

"An agreeable find, one quarter portion," he said, taking the lyrium stones one miner found, and given him a meagre amount of food.

"But, last week, that much was worth half rations," the human protested.

The elf man lowered his head slightly, recognising the subtle narrowing of the officer's eyes. It was enough of a warning for the human to take the rations and go, without further complaint. No one complained in the empire, no one debated. But above all, everyone served the empire.

"You missed your quota for the fourth month running," the officer told the elf man ahead of him.

"My mother was sick, she needed someone to look after her, please sir, just give me another chance, I can catch up," the miner was just a boy, and he sounded so desperate.

"I've given you ample enough time already boy, if your mother was that sick, you should have just let her die, now we won't have the right amount of lyrium to ship off world, which means I won't get the credits I need to pay for the right amount of food this month. Which also means I have to make an example," the officer explained.

"NO! PLEASE SIR LET ME TRY! GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE PLEASE!" the boy yelled.

The officer simply waved his hand, and the armoured men behind him moved forward. They took hold of the boy's arms and began to drag him away, ignoring his screams. None tried to help him, because all feared the white and black armoured men. All feared the troopers that brought the storm of the empire's judgement. The elf man lowered his head and sighed.

'This is not how things should be,' he thought.

* * *

 **The empire, that's what we know them as. Their occupation of our world was easy. We were a planet of divided nations, stuck in ancient and unproductive ways of thinking, archaic beliefs in god and our origins. They on the other hand were a united empire, stern, evolved in their methods, led by a singular belief to expand that overshadowed any individual's personal beliefs. That and military, they hilariously outmatched us, the sword was useless against the hull of their super weapons, weapons that could shatter castles in a single shot.**

 **Within a year, our entire planet was theirs, and surrender became the only option. To salvage our culture, or perhaps to keep what they perceived as power, the ruling religion known as the chant of light, altered their canticles. The Maker was still their primary god, but the maker became an aspect of the empire. To prevent rebellion, or perhaps to keep their own power, the chantry made the emperor its god. But there were those within the Chantry who didn't agree with this, thus a splinter faction known as 'the true chant' emerged. It was still following the pro-human canticles from before the empire's rise of course.**

 **But the Chant no longer had as wide an influence as it once did. Some abandoned belief in the maker altogether, either becoming loyal to the empire, or simply tried to get by. My generation only had little knowledge of what came before, the empire's reign became our life, but we weren't necessarily happy with their rule. Some of us did turn to the maker, and some of us began to take on the teachings of the 'true chant'. For some it was a way to privately believe that there was something greater than the empire, than our own lives. Whilst others openly took it as a sign of rebellion, either as a way to stand up to the new masters, or in an attempt to fight the empire.**

 **The true chant is considered a resistance movement by some, hooligans by others, and mild annoyances by most. Their efforts never really amount to anything. Because the empire has enforcers who are much more powerful, and more feared than even the storm troopers.**

* * *

She was no elf, something even her hood could not conceal from the Dalish Sabrae clan. They still sought out the secrets of their ancient ancestors, but did so in the hope of not just rebuilding their old empire, but bringing down the new one. Keeper Marethari however did not believe simply in the old ways, the present mattered to her more than the past. The older dwarf looked at the guest in her tent, a smile crossing her face as she gave her what her clan had found days ago. To most, it would be a simple triangular trinket, but for the resistance, it was a new hope. The human woman lifted off her hood, to get a better look at the item, revealing her beautiful features and red hair.

"I hope this will put you on the correct path," Marethari said.

"These days, hope is all we have, like 'hopefully' this will lead to something more, or so the divine believes," the young woman said.

"Divine Justinia could not have chosen anyone better than her left hand, Lady Nightingale, I believe wholeheartedly that you will find what the resistance needs," the keeper explained.

"Something that will actually make us a resistance, and please Keeper, call me Leliana!"

Both smiled, but both changed as the warning call came through the camp. A dark haired elf girl came into the tent, desperation written across her face. She was carrying an iron bark staff, marking her as a mage and the Keeper's first.

"Pol saw them with the spyglass, they're coming," she said.

"They've come looking for me," Leliana said.

All three exited the tent, looking out into the night sky, as the other members of the clan prepared for combat. In the distance, they could see the imperial drop ships.

"Merrill, get Leliana a Halla," Marethari commanded.

"When they get here, tell them I threatened you," Leliana said.

"No, we will buy you time," Marethari retorted.

"You're no match for them."

"I know, Merril, see Leliana to her transport!"

Marethari took out her staff, joining the defensive line with her clans hunters. They were still dressed in archaic elf armour, still used bows, but also used stolen blasters and thermal detonators. The imperial drop ships hovered over the ground, opening their hatches, and releasing the contingents of troopers they carried. The Dalish opened fire, bringing down at best a few of the soldiers. But the troopers were more accurate with their blasters, they were natives of the planet, trained, some even indoctrinated by the empire. The Dalish fighters fell in groups, smoke coming out of their blaster wounds.

Calling upon her magic, Marethari bought roots up from the ground, lifting up groups of troopers, suffocating or impaling them. She formed armour of rocks around herself, firing one bolt after another from her staff. Two fell, then three, with five more thrown back by the explosion of a fireball. The Keeper was a truly experienced mage whom had mastered her power. But the pulses of stun blasters struck her armour and barriers, then came the knight-troopers. Formed from defected templars, these troopers were trained in the art of fighting mages and demons. The flaming sword of the templar ordered was embedded on their chest plates, and their helmets were decorated with wings. A single Knight-trooper activated his kite shaped energy shield, blocking Marethari's bolts.

Light shined from his body, the power of a templar. The smite drained Marethari's mana, neutralised her magic, and bought her to her knees. She was as helpless as the non-combatants in her clan. The fighting ended as the surrounded clan surrendered, many of their fighters were dead, and the young and old would die if they continued resisting. Marethari however smiled, they had done their part. That smile faded as she felt the terror emanating from her clan members, they pointed to an imperial shuttle, painted black with imposing wings that folded up as it landed.

Mist rushed out of the hatch as it hissed, and slowly opened. A black clad figure walked off of the hatch, followed by silver armoured, and black cloaked guards carrying staffs. The black clad figure wore robes and armoured plates that were the common styled amongst the empire's most powerful enforcers. His face and race was hidden by the hood and metallic mask he wore, but on his mask were symbols that looked like the facial tattoos of the Sabrae clan.

"You haven't aged a day," the masked man said, his voice slightly distorted by the mask.

"Whilst you are as angry as I remember, which in turn makes me sad, I am sorry for what has become of your life and the choices you have made," Marethari explained, speaking as if she knew the man.

"Once keepers said that of all of them, you were one who was not weighed down by the past, I however see differently, you are as burdened by your past as the rest of them old woman," the man explained.

He walked around the Keeper, and would occasionally look at the other Dalish, looking down at them as if he was their master. But he was certainly the man in control, the troopers stood in a circle, with every man, woman and child of the clan at their mercy. The masked man stopped walking and focused entirely on Marethari.

"You know what I'm looking for, you're going to give it to me," he said.

"I know that you are burdened by the past too, but it is not too late my child, you can still let it go," Marethari said.

The man stopped, tilting his head as if thinking about it. Then, in one fluid motion he removed a Dar'misaan handle from his belt. The elves gasped as a crimson blade extended from the handle, curving like most elf blades did. He swept the blade of light through Marethari, more easily than any blade of steel could.

"You're right, I can let go," the masked man said.

A cry came from the far side of the camp. Raw energy crackled and flew past the troopers, straight towards the masked man. But he turned, raising his hand, the bolt suddenly stopped, still crackling, but frozen as if he had grabbed it. He turned off his sabre and put the handle back on his belt. Then he motioned to where the bolt had come from, to the tearful Merrill. The knight-troopers hit her with a smite and bound her hands with cuffs.

"Take her back to the ship, she'll know where Nightingale is going," the masked man said.

"What about the rest of the clan?" one of the commanders asked.

"Kill them!"

Two simple words, and the troopers did it. The masked man turned away, walking with Merrill and her captors back to the ship. She looked back, seeing her family die. Seeing each trooper shoot their blaster mercilessly at the elves. All but one, a knight-trooper, whose hands shook as he lowered his rifle and cast his head down to the floor.

'What are we doing?' he wondered.

* * *

 **Those who wield red blades of light, known as light sabres, and control a force of energy that matches magic. They are the true rulers of the empire, having more authority and power than even provincial governors. The Sith, they are called, followers of a dark code. Whilst the imperial officers and troopers are considered cruel, some see the Sith as the embodiments of true evil, worse than even demons of the fade. Whilst imperials seek out lyrium, the Sith seek to control another great source of power on our planet, mages.**

 **Once, before they came, the chantry controlled the circle of magi, which sheltered/imprisoned and trained mages. Now, the Sith have primary control of the circles. They possess the authority to take anyone from the circle, for Sith typically followed a rule of two. A master, and an apprentice, every so often a master will choose an apprentice. Many a time, the masters seek apprentices from a circle, like the circle near lake Calenhad.**

 **The circle that has been my home, for many years.**

Daylen Amell was leaning on his bo staff, a fresh bruise on his face. Four men in black robes stood around him, all holding bo staves as well. They were at the top of the circle tower near Lake Calenhad. As well as the Harrowing, the top of the tower was used for more aggressive methods of training the mages. To the side of the 'arena' stood the Knight-Commander Greigor, a man who uncomfortably wore the Knight-Trooper armour, minus the helmet. Also standing there was First Enchanter Uldred.

As a more 'open minded' senior mage, the empire made Uldred the new First Enchanter. He took advantage of his new powers, appearing much cleaner than any mage there, his face devoid of bruises. The man wore a purple and black robe, with pieces of armour and black gloves, people often commented that the scales of the armour looked like the hide of a Pride demon. He looked at Daylen with a mix of pride and amusement.

Daylen wore the 'combat training' variant of the circle robes. There was no skirt on it, consisting of blue trousers and a blue shirt with a cloth belt holding it together, he also wore gloves and cloth shoes. The trainers kept on walking around him, trying to get the better of him, and trying to please their master. The spire only had one new addition, a platform for a Sith Lord to watch from.

This Sith Lord was an imposing alien known as a Chagrian. As tall as most Qunari, like most of his species the Chagrian lord had tentacles hanging on his shoulders, with spiked horns on them, and two additional spiked horns on top of his head. He had red skin with ferocious black markings across his face, an a burn scar running diagonally across the bridge of his nose, shaped as if a sword had given it to him, a sabre scar. He wore a black armoured robe, his red hands clicked his fingers, a command for the trainers to continue.

Daylen quickly swung his staff around, blocking a strike from a trainer behind him. He shoved the man back and deflected a second trainer's strike into the third one's staff. Then he managed to strike the fourth trainer across the head.

"One opponent dead, but still three more," the Sith Lord said.

Uldred looked between Daylen and the Sith Lord. He would have preferred to have been in the arena, fighting for the opportunity to be a Sith apprentice. Daylen continued fighting well against the three trainers, using mana to increase the power of his strikes. The method of fighting clearly impressed the Chagrian, who put his hand to his chin and smirked. Daylen ducked, barely avoiding a strike, then jumped back to avoid a second. The third trainer came at Daylen, thrusting his staff like one would a spear. Daylen blocked it again and again, then batted it aside and tapped the man's gut, which was considered a killing stroke.

"He's doing it," Greigor said.

The First enchanter couldn't sense if there was pride, or fear in the man's voice. He'd always had a veiled respect for the part bred mage. People called Daylen part breed (though never cruel enough to his face) because his race and ancestry was difficult to determine. His skin tone and hair suggested Rivaini, or perhaps Tevinter origins, but he was originally from a noble family in the Free marches, some formerly grand city that was now a port state of the empire. Daylen's hair spiked in an unnatural way, he had a body that was muscular but not behemoth like, like the Qunari, and a short height, though still taller than an elf and just as agile. But the young man, though off to a slow start, quickly proved to be a prodigy in most things he put his mind to.

Greigor's fear perhaps stemmed from the teachings of the Sith. It could turn good men cruel, and literally change them. The more a person drew from the dark side, the deeper they immersed themselves in, the more grotesque they could become. They had heard of Sith Lords who appeared to be wrinkled crones, yet be only in their early forties, yet have twice the strength of their juniors. The Knight-Commander wanted Daylen to rise, but not become a Sith Lord. Likewise, Uldred wanted Daylen to succeed, but not if it meant taking what he deserved instead.

The two remaining trainers approached Daylen from both directions, swinging their staves hard against his. His footing buckled slightly, but his grip remained firm. He deflected one strike, then hit the man across the throat. But the second trainer swung his staff against Daylen's leg, bringing him to his knees. He then hit Daylen across the head, giving him an additional bruise. The Sith Lord shook his head in disappointment, before he jumped off of the platform. He landed smoothly on his feet and began to approach Daylen and the trainers.

"Impressive, but not enough, do not fear your anger, draw from it and you will attain a power to destroy your enemies. Do not be afraid to hurt, or even kill your trainers, the galaxy will not allow weakness," the Sith Lord explained.

"Yes Kaius," Daylen said, his voice filled with defiant anger.

The Sith Lord shook his head and raised his hand. With the force, he pulled the staff from Daylen's grip and took it into his own.

"We are done for the day, return to your quarters," the Sith Lord, Darth Kaius said.

Daylen rubbed his arm as he was taken back to his dorm by the Knight-Troopers. On the way, he saw everything that was different about the tower now, armoured troopers patrolling the halls, droids, rebellious mages being collared. A special collar had been produced, that would allow magic to be suppressed. He joined a line of fellow mage students, some dressed in the same gear he was in, others in traditional Ferelden circle robes, whilst a rare few wore Sith robes, proudly signifying that they were candidates for apprenticeship. Of course the candidates got first choice on food, even choosing the portion they could get.

"Damn it, they're going to take all of the sweet potato again, I just know it," a mage student, Liam complained.

"So what? We should be grateful we're getting food at all," said Keili, a brown haired girl.

"Enough you two," Petra, a red haired girl snapped at them.

Daylen remained silent, looking at the line ahead. He saw, and nodded to his friend Jowan. The older mage stepped up to the food servers, thin and tired looking Twi'leks, a common slave race used by the empire. Daylen heard most of the boys in the dorm talk about how beautiful the female Twi'leks were, and even overheard the candidates talk about the 'favours' they got from the slaves. These Twi'leks however were men, and looked as if they had been fed only the bare minimum, some of the apprentices had more meat on their bones than them.

"Thank you," Jowan said to the Twi'lek serving man.

The Twi'lek spouted something in his native language. Daylen read a little bit about it, he could pick up the words 'welcome' and 'along' in the man's words. Most of the aliens spoke the language of Ferelden, described as basic in the wider empire, they just preferred speaking their own language, whilst some species couldn't physically speak the same way others did. The line got shorter and eventually it was Daylen's turn.

 _"Thank you Kora,"_ he said to the man, in his own language.

The blue skinned Twi'lek seemed taken aback by the respect in Daylen's voice. He put some food on Daylen's plate, and avoided smiling. The aliens were part of the empire before those in Thedas were, yet, they were treated harsher than any human subject. Daylen knew that if he was caught treating the Twi'Lek with kindness, it would be the Twi'lek who would suffer, at least when Darth Kaius left. Kaius was an alien in an anti-alien empire and had been granted a title as important as Darth. It was a testament to the man's connection to the force.

Daylen walked back to his dorm, where several apprentices were avoiding a specific bed. Instead a senior enchantress was at the bedside, treating her patient. Wynn was a good healer, dedicated to what the circle used to be, it didn't make Daylen like her, what he did like about her was her motherly kindness and sass. In the best way that she could, she defied the empire without even fighting. Grinding some herbs into a bowl, she applied a salve to a burn wound on her patient's arm.

"What happened this time?" Daylen asked, crouching beside the patient and Wynn.

"Uldred's students, he was just walking the halls when they saw fit to practice on him," Wynn said.

Daylen placed his hand on the patient's forehead, touching the brand mark on it. There was no emotion in the man's eyes, no exhaustion, no pain. One might call it a blessing that the man felt nothing. Daylen didn't think of it that way, Irving had been the closest thing he had to a father in the circle, a target for Uldred's cruelty since the Sith came to power. Eventually, Uldred found something to condemn Irving for and had him made tranquil.

"Here, I've brought food for you both," Daylen placed his bowl and the roll on the floor.

"You should eat something too," Wynn said.

"I have something underneath my bed," he retorted, walking to his bunk.

He reached underneath the floor boards, looking over a multitude of tools, everything he'd been gathering over the past few days. Then he took a stale slice of bread from underneath his pillow, shoving the contents down his throat. Irving often never got food, and Wynn spent too much time looking after those hurt by Sith cruelty to feed herself.

"Daylen," a voice spoke from behind him.

He turned, smiling as Jowan patted his back.

"Met with Lily yet?" he asked.

Jowan nodded his head, producing a part from his robe.

"She said it wasn't easy to come by," Jowan said.

"I'm sure you found some way to repay her," Daylen said.

"Very funny...but true," Jowan muttered. "What are they anyway?"

"Essentials, are you attending mass tonight?" Daylen asked.

"Yes, hopefully Keili won't be there though," Jowan said.

"Why not, she's usually pretty kind."

"Except now her preaching is getting a little annoying."

It wasn't perfect code, but it was enough to get across a warning. If Keili turned up at mass, then they wouldn't be able to discuss what they really intended on talking about.

"I'm sure I can distract Keili," Daylen said.

Normally he wouldn't be able to stomach being in the chantry. Keili was a devout practitioner of the faith, and although not an outright supporter of the empire, she wanted to stay out of its way. Daylen leant against one of the pillars, listening to her pray. Every word she muttered, though he respected and understood her view, wasn't something he agreed with.

"Blessed are the peacekeepers, champions of the just," she said every part of the prayer with the utmost belief in her voice.

"Blessed is the empire, may it rule eternal," Daylen said, in synch with Keili.

She turned, and smiled at him. Over the past few months, he approached her whenever she prayed, pretending to be a secret follower of the chant. He'd been trying to gauge her, to determine if she was someone he could trust. She trusted him, though Daylen hoped she didn't love him. Walking closer into the monastery, Daylen touched Keili's chin softly, giving her the choice. She followed the path he needed her to take though, wrapping her arms around his neck and capturing his lips with hers.

As night passed, Daylen and Keili found a corner of the library. There he caressed her face, kissing her softly, hoping she'd forgive the way he was deceiving her. She trusted him so intimately that she didn't noticed or resist his touch on her mind. As they kissed, he held the sides of her head, employing the force to 'push' her into a gentle sleep. Settling her on a chair and resting her head into a book, he created the illusion that she had been up all night studying. She wasn't an offender, the loyalist knight-troopers wouldn't punish her.

With Keili indisposed, Daylen walked back to the monastery. A small group of mages, knight-troopers and clerics were there, gathered around a holo-light. Of the group was Jowan, Greigor, a Knight named Cullen, senior enchanter Niall, Petra, and Daylen's cousin Bethany. The dark haired girl was a beauty, every bit the mage Daylen was and kind too.

"What have you got for us Greigor?" Daylen asked.

"A brief look at Kaius's itinerary, in two days time he'll be returning to Denerim with an apprentice," the templar, and man who still believed in freedom explained.

"Niall?"

"Uldred's been bragging again, saying he's going to Denerim to visit a brothel after an apprentice is chosen, and of the potential apprentices three have been narrowed down, one of whom is still you," Niall said.

"Even though I performed poorly in the arena and have gained no prestige?" Daylen asked.

"Could he suspect what we're doing?" Jowan asked.

"If he did, we'd be dead already," Cullen said.

"Next time you're tested, you need to let the trainers beat you," Petra said.

"Then he'll definitely know you're up to something," Niall retorted.

Daylen rubbed his eyebrows in frustration. He then looked to his cousin, whom began removing numerous sheets of paper from her robe.

"For months I've been sending letters, and for months mother has been sending me back news of how things are in Lothering, as well as how my sister is doing with her hunting," Bethany explained.

She put some of the pieces of paper together, and overlapped others. Shining the light over the pages, the people gathered looked, impressed by what Bethany had made. Each letter returned to her included small pieces of a map, a marked map. Though it didn't have textbook detail of Ferelden, Daylen was familiar with enough maps to know that it was his adopted country, with marks indicating regular patrols and locations for imperial bases.

"Once Anders is back, we'll have everything we need," Daylen smiled, looking around the table of faces he trusted.

They all smiled back, hopeful and confident in the plan that was years in the making. Tonight, a true rebellion was born.

Everyone left one at a time, or in small groups, so as to not alert the guards patrolling the corridors. Daylen often studied late, so he walked back on his own. He felt an uneasy shiver on his neck. Stopping for a moment, he looked back down the corridor and found nothing. Then it came, a weight around the back of his neck. He turned, wrapping his arms around the one who had ambushed him. Soft lips met his, and unlike his kiss with Keili, this one possessed a dominating passion. Daylen ran his hands up the robbed body of his lover, an elf girl with red hair.

"I heard you impressed Kaius today," she said.

"Whilst I haven't heard anything about your progress Nelia," Daylen said, holding her hands and smiling.

They had been friends since they both arrived at the tower together. Him, the bastard child of a noble family, her a city born girl from Highever.

"I had to tell someone," she said.

"What is it?" Daylen asked.

"It's a dream come true Daylen, finally I'll be able to have the strength, and authority to free us both," Nelia said.

"What is it?" this time, there was concern in Daylen's voice, but it didn't make Nelia Surana's smile waver.

"I was listening in on one of Uldred's rants, Kaius has chosen me as one of the potential candidates for apprenticeship!"

Daylen remained speechless, and internally horrified.

"What's wrong Daylen?" she asked.

"Nothing," he lied, but unfortunately, she knew it.

His plans for rebellion, were about to get much more complicated.

Next Episode 2: The occupied planet

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Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, Daylen is pretty much the main character within the series, but as you have seen there will be other focus characters as the story progresses. Kaius looks wise is similar to Darth Wyyrlok. I wanted one of the first antagonists of the series to be from a physically powerful race, but he is an intelligent and powerful force user. More Star Wars altered Dragon Age characters will appear next chapter.


	2. Episode 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Dragon Age

Glad the first chapter got some reviews, thanks Nexus and 00virtuezero. This chapter we get some focus on Dragon Age 2 characters, as well as some insight into Kaius and the specifics of how Ferelden was again conquered. Its kind of an action sequence, but not like other ones I've done.

00virtuezero was right, there are plenty of possibilities of characters being different, I present the first one this chapter. To Nexus, yes the scene with the elves was inspired by the opening of the Force Awakens, you'll find out the identity of both the Dark Jedi and the trooper in later chapters.

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Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 2: The occupied planet

He didn't care what problem they had against the empire, it was no bigger than the problems he had with them. They all remembered what the world was like before, and from what his parents told him, he was sure it was just as bad without the empire as it was with it. The nobility, looking down on those they saw beneath them, simply because they were not born with their wealth and titles. Now, the nobility only complained because there was someone higher than them. Once there was a time he believed that there was someone higher than him, and he devoted his life to serving that one, throwing aside the wealth, land and titles of his family.

Handling a blaster was a lot different from handling a bow, but the principle of it was still the same, keep your arms steady and keep your distance from the target, hit them before they knew you were coming. A blaster was a smart weapon, you can kill an enemy without even moving. The contract was for the target to be dead anyway. He fired a shot, sending a bolt careening into the man's back. The body fell off the horse, and the very sound of the blaster made the horse run away. He mounted his horse and rode over to the body, a merchant who was stupid enough to get caught smuggling. The empire didn't care if people made a little gold or credits on the side, they just preferred if it wasn't selling to local hooligans like the true faith. This contract was sent out by Grand Cleric Petrice, the Chantry, at least the one that had imperial approval, now backed paying for murder.

There was a time Sebastian Vael wouldn't have approved of such a thing, even stood against it. But that was before the empire cracked down on faith, before Starkhaven burned, before the Chantry as he knew it fell apart. On that day, he discovered there was no god, just beings from the stars whom commanded extraordinary power. Walking through the streets of Kirkwall, Sebastian wore the chest plate that his family once commissioned for him, white and gold armour, with a fur collar, except he'd taken away the waist armour and Andrastian symbolism for the modern armour that came with the imperial occupation, underneath the chest plate he wore a simple black shirt.

His face held an expression devoid of any care, decorated only by the device worn around his ear, it generated a holographic display across his eyes, bolstering his marksmanship. He hadn't shaved in a few days, resulting in a shadow across his face. The body of his target was strapped to his horse, along with his high powered rifle. Sebastian looked up in disdain at the Chantry, the imperial flag put in place of the sunburst banners. A group of troopers, led by an imperial officer commanded him to stop, and he did so. They approached him casually, as he often brought back bounties. One of the troopers put a finger to his comm. unit, telling Petrice to come outside.

'Good, I won't have to go in there,' Sebastian thought.

From the huge doors of the Chantry emerged Mother Petrice, her nails beautifully manicured, her skin perfect. She was dragging behind her a ridiculously luxurious robe, not even the devine's robes had been as glorious as what Petrice wore. The woman preached the new chant, loyalty to the empire and the emperor, an emperor no one in Thedas had seen before. She recognised Sebastian, smirking, obviously thinking of how low he, the former grand cleric's favourite had fallen.

"Ah the lyrium smuggler, did he spill any of the filth the rebels are spouting?" she asked.

"I didn't talk to him, and they're hardly a rebellion, they actually have to do more than just annoy you to be rebels," Sebastian said.

"Right, 150 gold coins..."

"2000 credits, you offered 2000 imperial credits," Sebastian interrupted the cleric, visibly annoying her.

"Credits, what good are credits to you?" Petrice asked.

"None of your business, unless you're part of imperial security now," Sebastian said.

"What are they for?" this time the officer asked.

"Whatever I want to spend them on," Sebastian retorted.

Clearly finding his attitude distasteful, the officer turned over the credits, and Sebastian dumped the body.

"Remember brother Vael, the emperor watches us," Petrice said.

"I'm not a brother, and I doubt what I do matters to your new god," Sebastian said.

He walked away, into the crowds of Kirkwall. Mages walked the streets freely, wearing the black clothing most Sith apprentices wore. Kirkwall produced many Sith apprentices, they weren't as meticulous in their evaluations as other circles were. That and the empire wanted to show people just how much things had changed. As Sebastian walked the streets, he saw troopers leading away prisoners, elves, dwarves, rich men and poor men. There was no divide anymore between those the imps abused.

People even lost their homes, dragged out into the middle of the streets, forced to watch as their houses were ignited. Their only crime? Possessing old idols from old and unwanted gods.

"This is from a god that is not real, there is no Maker, only the accident that is life, there is only the empire, remember that, and remember this," the captain of the city guard said, before he threw a thermal grenade into someone's home.

Guards of the city didn't wear armour anymore, instead they wore imperial uniforms, grey, with bars on their shoulders if they were officers, black leather boots and often hats. The galaxy was changing, yet some things still stayed the same. The Hanged man was still a place where good men and bad men could gather and drink. Sebastian took his usual private corner, watching the rest of the crowd for possible thieves. All that was different about the Hanged man was what some of the people there wore. If you had credits you could buy the quality of clothes the Sith had.

"Sebastian Vael, did you kill him this time?" a voice asked.

Sebastian had to look over his table to see Varric Tethras. He wore his usual coat with the open chest, gloves, and had his precious crossbow strapped to his back. The dwarf took a seat, grinning as Sebastian scowled.

"What do you want Tethras?" Sebastian asked.

"Just looking to find out about an exciting adventure from one of Kirkwall's infamous bounty hunters," Varric said.

"If they're infamous they're not good," Sebastian retorted.

"Oh I sincerely disagree, all the best bounty hunters have their stories known, let me spread the word and you won't have to look for contracts," Varric explained.

"All right here's my exciting story, I got a contract to kill a man stupid enough to get caught smuggling to the true chant, I tracked him down and from a distance shot him in the back, collected the bounty, the end."

"Really, wow choir boy, that...is boring, what about a chase through the city? Duels with fellow bounty hunters? Stare downs with corrupt imperial officers, and the inner turmoil and moral questions?" Varric asked.

"Bounty hunters wouldn't be very good at their jobs if they questioned themselves Varric," Sebastian said.

"It makes for a much better read though," Varric said. "I think I'll add a few Twi'lek women in there, maybe an orgy, definitely a chase sequence, much more entertaining than 'I shot him in the back'."

The dwarf grinned as Sebastian tipped his cup to him. He then left, obviously to speak with more of his mercenary friends. In particular Varric spoke to Isabela, captain of a now redundant sea vessel. Or at least you'd think it was redundant, she actually formed a very profitable business. Though slower than a shuttle, a boat was less expensive and more covert. Isabela offered transport, smuggling, even just sailing trips for the lords who paid her enough. She was currently sitting with a women in a hood, her usual smile on her face, no doubt buttering her up before she bedded her. But when Sebastian spotted the hooded woman slip a purse into Isabela's hand, he realised it was a business discussion.

'Bad people like us stay out of the empire's way,' Sebastian thought.

After finishing his drink, he left the Hanged man. But instead of walking into the streets of Kirkwall, he walked into a warzone. Blaster bolts were flying into the ground, scorching it, even blowing up market stalls. Sebastian took cover, activating his targeting display. He saw jet pack streams in the air, Sky-templars. The armoured men and women landed on the rooftops, firing at their quarry. Sebastian ran to a different position, near the Elven alienage. He saw him, a mage, shooting electricity at Knight-Troopers. The young man went into the Alienage, throwing fire in his path. It disrupted both the trooper's targeting helmets, and Sebastian's display.

He deactivated it, and watched as the alienage began to be consumed by fire. A few men from the markets began getting water to help, it was more than the imperials were willing to do. Sebastian continued watching the alienage burn, seeing a single sky trooper fly into the flames, and then fly out. He followed the troopers flight path to the markets, where he dropped what he was carrying. The mage had had most of his shirt and skin burnt, he was writhing in pain. Then the Sky-Templar landed, revealing the more detail armour. She removed her helmet, revealing the cold features of Knight-commander Meredith. More Knight-troopers came, placing a disrupter collar on the mage's neck.

"Take him back to the gallows, give him to Lady Lumaya," Meredith said.

"No, please, anyone but her, NOO!" the boy screamed as he was dragged away.

Despite the destruction he had caused, Sebastian slightly pitied the mage. He had heard that the force could do terrible things to a mind. Meredith was just that right amount of cruel to keep her city safe. The Sith however, they seemed cruel for the mere sake of it.

'It's only a matter of time, before all the good people burn,' Sebastian thought, as he watched the elves and common humans try to put out the flames.

* * *

Marian Hawke was a different type of hunter. She still used a bow for hunting game in the woods surrounding Lothering. The Imperials had dropped what they referred to as 'ridiculous hunting laws', and established strict conservation laws. Game no longer belonged to the nobility, but hunters didn't have free reign to hunt down every animal in the forest. If the imperial conservation authority noticed a decline in the population, hunting was restricted or outright banned. Mating season had come and gone, and the population of deer was high now.

"Enough to feed a village," Marian thought as she strapped a carcass to her horse.

The ride back to Lothering was filled by the usual wonder of seeing imperial shuttles in the sky, and speeders go in and out of the village. Lothering had a small imperial presence, no dark jedi and only a small contingent of troopers, most of whom hadn't had a real fight in their lives. Marian however, she knew how to fight, her father was a fighter, her brother was a fighter, and now her sister and cousin were fighters too. She waved to her mother, whom was picking from their field. They grew food for themselves, but sent what they could do others, just as Malcolm Hawke would have wanted it.

"There's been another letter from Bethany," Leandra said.

Marian was almost a mirror image of Leandra in her younger days, though Marian kept her hair shorter and without a tail. The woman looked tired, having lost her husband, son, and her youngest daughter being in the tower.

"Let me read it mother," Marian said.

She took the opened letter and began to read. It was a confirmation that Bethany had understood the code in her last letter, and that the time to start the fire would be soon.

'Finally,' Marian thought.

"You're going to do it aren't you?" Leandra asked.

"What's wrong mother?"

"Don't think me ignorant, I know you both, you're my daughters, you think I don't know when you're planning something?"

Marian sighed as she turned to her mother.

"I'm not father, I can't just take a stand like he did, it needs to be action, if we're ever going to be free we need nothing less than a full scale, armed revolution," Marian explained.

"I know that you are strong Marian, I know Bethany has her magic, and I know that if anyone is brilliant enough to defy the empire it would be your cousin. But victory doesn't come without sacrifice, people will die and I'm afraid I'm going to lose you both," Leandra explained.

"Mother," Marian shook her head, wrapping her arms around her. "I can't promise you won't lose me, I can't promise that I will be enough to protect Bethany. But we have to do something, otherwise our children will grow up in fear as we have."

Leandra hugged her daughter, staying like that until they had supper. Whilst her mother slept, Marian snuck out of the village, and back into the woods. Following the path she had taken so many other times, she came to a clearing. Taking out her torch, she turned it on, then off, using a specific code to tell her friends everything was all clear on her side. A light in the distance blinked on and off, a sign that they could begin approaching one another. Still, Marian kept a cautious grip on her dagger, clearing away the bushes and getting closer and closer to her contact. A beast of a woman emerged, tall, muscular and with a tough expression. Her hair was ginger and she had cute freckles though, most found her intimidating, but Marian knew Aveline Vallen as her friend. The woman had an Orlesian Chevalier sword strapped to her right hip, and a blaster on her left.

"I don't get to meet the leader again?" Marian asked.

"It's not that he doesn't trust you Marian, it's that...he doesn't trust you," Aveline muttered.

"I appreciate at least your attempt to lift my spirits," Marian said.

"What did they say?" Aveline asked.

"Darth Kaius will be choosing his apprentice in two days time, at the same time the First Enchanter will also be leaving for Denerim. The two of them will be in Denerim, leaving the tower without two of its most powerful players," Marian explained.

"I trust you Marian, but can your cousin be trusted? He's spent all his life in that tower," Aveline said.

"And he's been planning this for years, asking me and anyone else outside the tower to scout and watch, to find out where daily patrols go and where the empire keeps all their weapons. Where bases are set, did you tell the resistance about his plan?" Marian asked.

"I did, and he agrees it's a good plan, once Denerim falls, the Bannorn will see that the empire can be hurt. But it's all a big if, we don't have much to lose anymore, except this promise. The promise that we can fight the empire and be free, it isn't a lot to go on Marian," Aveline explained.

"For some that dream is all that keeps them going, the hope that someone will not just stand up to the empire, but defeat them," Marian said.

Aveline nodded her head, she was like Marian. Both wanted the future to be different, for the generations after them. They were desperate to be free of the empire.

* * *

Kinloch Hold was a place where the veil was thin. It was what allowed mages to undertake their harrowing in the first place. This gave it a subtle connection with the dark side of the force. But the Chagrian formerly known as Linar Crossroth, had not lost himself in the dark. It was true he had become very accustomed to the dark side and the power it offered, but there was a large gap between those whom commanded the darkness, and those who were dominated by the darkness. Darth Kaius was of the mind that true strength resided in between peace and rage, in serenity. Meditation helped him to maintain that serenity. Sitting cross-legged and shirtless, the Chagrian seemed dead to the world, but was aware of everything.

"Do you have something to report to me First-Enchanter Uldred?" the man asked.

Uldred was taken aback, he had assumed that the dark lord hadn't heard him approach. But for Kaius it was so much more than having good senses. Through serenity, the force became his eyes. Uldred's eyes however remained fixed on the scars on Kaius's back.

"Each offence I committed resulted in a whipping," Kaius said, sensing Uldred's interest.

"Lord Kaius, I was not..."

"My people come from a much harsher world than yours Uldred, thus our bodies are stronger, we're ideal labourers for the empire. I was a slave, a builder, but hard labour, and torture, gave me a strength those whom submitted would never have. But ultimately my success was only due to the...small kindness of my former master," Kaius explained.

"You have never spoken of your master, in fact," the mage chuckled, "I think this is the most you have ever said to me lord Kaius."

"Indeed, my former master visited the building grounds often, most assumed he was looking for brute strength...but he would see a boy like myself, I was small in comparison to most of my species then, getting whipped in the back, every cry of pain followed by a glare at my tormentors. There came a time when my handlers wanted me executed because of my trouble making, but my master stopped them, saying I was a valuable asset," Kaius stood up, calling his robes and armour to him.

"I killed the handler, smashed his head into the rocks until his skull shattered, covering my hands in brain matter," Uldred gulped, disturbed by how casual Kaius spoke of such a vicious murder.

"What happened then?" Uldred asked.

"The Sith chose me as his apprentice, he taught me much, and when I finally worked up the courage to ask him why, do you know what he said?" Kaius asked.

Uldred shook his head, keeping his arms crossed behind his back, waiting respectfully for Kaius to reveal his secrets.

"I have no need for someone who submits, that's what he told me. He didn't want a noble heir with a sense of entitlement or a sycophant from the academy, he wanted an apprentice that hated the empire, even the Sith. My connection to the force then wasn't even that strong, and he picked me because I defied those who enslaved me. Do you know the Dark Jedi code Uldred?"

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength, through strength I gain power, through power I gain victory, through victory my chains are broken, the force shall free me," Uldred recited the doctrine of the Sith, one he read often to show his understanding of them.

Kaius clamped his gauntlets around his wrists and put on his cloak.

"Good Uldred, you see my master wanted an apprentice who embodied the principle of the code. My hatred, my passion gave me the strength to break my chains, that's the ideal apprentice I want Uldred, not one of your students, not you, not a person whom has completely submitted themselves to what I have to offer...but someone who will fight back against the darkness," Kaius explained.

Uldred remained speechless, his very dreams had been broken by the revelation. He had hoped to become Kaius's apprentice himself. But now he saw that it was useless. He squeezed his hands into fists, electricity crackling off of them as Kaius passed him. But the Sith lord was not afraid, not even cautious around him. He could sense the intense rage coming from Uldred, and still didn't consider him a threat. Uldred however did not know that.

"RAAARGH!" Uldred let out a great cry, calling forth the lightning.

Suddenly, an object slammed into Uldred's face, knocking him around. Uldred stepped back, looking at the object. Kaius's light sabre, a short handled device that produced a short red sabre blade. But the sabre wasn't even activated, it was just a metallic handle floating in the air. Kaius flipped his finger, and the handle whizzed around Uldred, striking him across the face, in the back, into his gut. It was like a fly, whizzing around the mage again and again.

'He's, he's not even taking me seriously,' Uldred thought as he was brought to his knees.

The handle then stopped, pushing against Uldred's forehead. He held his hands up, shaking and looking at Kaius with a pleading expression.

"This moment, it seems very familiar," the Sith lord put a hand to his chin. "Ah, I remember," he clicked his fingers. "It's actually an interesting, though slightly sad story, do you want to know what happened to my master Uldred?"

"My lord I..." Uldred's words were silenced, as the sabre pushed itself into his mouth.

Tears were flowing out of Uldred's eyes, and urine soaked through his robe. The doors swung open and Greigor and a few Knight-templars stepped in. They looked at Uldred, most didn't like him, but they pitied him now. But every one of the templars remained still, knowing they couldn't stop Kaius.

"My master befell the fate that most Sith Lords do, perhaps one day I'll share the specific details with you," Kaius clicked his hands, and like a dog, the handle quickly flew back onto his belt.

Uldred coughed, saliva spreading itself across the floor.

"Should I have one of the servants come to clean this mess up?" Greigor asked.

"No Greigor, one of the servants is already here to clean it up," Kaius said, looking at Uldred before he walked out of his office.

Kaius heard Uldred continue to cry like a baby.

'Pathetic,' he thought.

He walked down the halls of the tower, not enjoying the way some students would bow their heads in his presence. Kaius and his master Darth Vice, came to Ferelden to put down the rebel movement there. Though Nevarra possessed an army that had been untouched at the time of the empire's landing, Ferelden put up the greatest fight. They had just kicked out Orlais and weren't prepared to bow to new rulers. King Maric and his friend Loghain, carried on one of the longest resistances against the Imperial occupation, engaging the empire through guerrilla tactics.

The memory of their final battle was one of Kaius's fondest. He recalled every second of the battle, the walkers getting pulled down by rope, the way the rebels fired their stolen blasters, and every enemy who fell to his light sabre. He too remembered his master, Darth Vice, dominating the Ferelden freedom fighters with his own sabre. Their crimson blades painted the field that day. Loghain fled, but whether it was a plan he shared with Maric, Kaius didn't know. Nor did he know if the golden armoured king fought as hard as he did that day, because he was buying time for his friend to escape, or if he was simply fighting for his life?

It went how a battle should be fought, no banter, no taunting, just one man protecting himself against two men trying to kill him. Maric had fought with a Dura steel shield and his sword, bolstered by an anti-sabre coating. His skills as a warrior made up for his lack of force abilities, engaging both Kaius and Vice evenly, at least for a while. The king managed to gain the upper hand and break Vice's leg with his shield, permanently injuring the human's knee. Then Kaius fought the king in a one on one duel, both just as tired as the other, but not willing to give up.

Maric fought smart though, utilising the advantage the shield gave him, staying behind it and striking at Kaius every chance he got. Once Kaius realised he couldn't break Maric's defence, he called his master's light sabre with the force. Igniting the sabre in mid pull, he stabbed Maric in the back with it. Then he cut off Maric's shield arm, and took off the man's helmet. Maric remained fearless, even in the face of imminent death, his expression alone was a defiance that required no great speech. Kaius beheaded the man and then displayed his head to his people.

Darth Vice later told a story, of how Maric fell in battle, with honour. Whilst that was true, he spun another tale. That since Loghain abandoned Maric, he was not fit to raise his son. So Cailan came into the care of the empire, and he became their pawn. Cailan didn't have the integrity his father did. He was naive, ignorant of reality, imagining himself as the king who kept Ferelden from crumbling and modernising it. Kaius felt that he was pathetic too, not like Maric's bastard.

It was only recently that Kaius killed the aged Vice, taking his place as a Darth. But to fulfil the code, he needed an apprentice. Kaius walked the halls of the circle, until he saw him. Daylen Amell, the young man was still in his practice clothes, reading about and practicing spells. Glyphs and symbols appeared in front of his hand, as he bolstered the density of a book case, making it as hard as rock. The young man had apparently performed blood magic when he was just old enough to walk, but as a price, he couldn't perform healing magic. Kaius felt similar, in the fact that he, a former builder, hadn't created anything in a long time.

"Knight-Trooper Cullen," he said, catching the attention of the man who often guarded Amell.

"Yes Lord Kaius," Cullen Rutherford bowed his head, holding the earnest expression many expected from him.

"When Daylen has completed his studying, I want him brought to the tower spire," Kaius said.

"Yes my lord," Cullen said, but Kaius noticed the hesitation in the young man's voice.

He smiled as he walked away, searching for another noteworthy mage in the tower. The search took him to the secondary library, where an elven girl was practicing binding spells. Like Daylen, she was in her practice robes. Nelia Surana was her name, she was from an alienage in Highever, she'd accidentally set fire to a boy's trousers. As a mage she was as good as Daylen, getting through her harrowing at the same speed he head. She was a good healer though, never having even read about blood magic. That and unlike Daylen, she actually wanted to be a Sith apprentice.

"Knight-trooper, have Surana come to the spire," he told her guard.

Kaius saw most through the force, things that bound people together. Hatred had now bound Uldred to him, just as Uldred's hatred bound him to Kaius, so did other emotions bound others to one another. In the case of three people, it was love, though not in the way some might think. After walking the corridors for a while, he finally found who he was looking for in the Chantry, Kieli, the praying girl.

Next Episode 3: Cruelty of the Sith

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Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, Daylen has a plan, but hopefully you all saw in this chapter, Kaius has a plan too.


	3. Episode 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

This chapter is short, but shows how mixed this timeline is, as I introduce characters from many years after the era of the Old Republic.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 3: Cruelty of the Sith

Theron Azab walked the halls of the Star destroyer class vessel 'punishment'. As a dark Jedi of the new rulers of Thedas, he had been tasked with hunting down all rebels without mercy. He showed that last evening with the elven clan, putting his past behind him. Most of the storm troopers avoided him, but he wasn't actually a Darth, not yet. He stopped at the side of the senior imperial agent, Vasil Dorne. He was a silver haired gentlemen, who had various years in the imperial military under his belt. Even Darths respected the man, not just for his loyalty, but his achievements. In Theron's eyes however he was disrespectful, true the man's intelligence gathering won many battles, and he took discipline and imperial security very seriously, but he had no respect for his power. Dorne looked down at the city of Kirkwall, which seemed such a long way from the Star Destroyer.

"Meredith has reported to me of their being unrest in the city, food is scarce, apparently the Viscount had rotten food distributed," Dorne said.

"What problem is it of mine?"

"The problem Azab is that hungry people make for rebellious people, your disposal of the Dalish clan left us with only one prisoner to question, one who hasn't revealed much," the agent explained.

"Only because you haven't been taking the right approach, you're too soft," Azab said.

"And you are too cruel, careful Azab, that you do not let your personal feelings drive you from your duty, the elimination of the clan was you letting your past overwhelm you."

"I could snap your neck right here with but a flick of my wrist."

"I'm well aware of the power force users have Azab, I once witnessed a mere apprentice alter the course of a battle by simply shifting the direction of an asteroid. You may be a force user, but you are not a dark lord of the Sith, I'm not here to say please or 'yes my lord' I'm here to tell you what to do," Vasil showed no fear, not even anger, he spoke as a military commander would to a lowly soldier.

Azab huffed as he stormed away from the captain. He began making his way to his quarters. Once the doors were locked behind him, he removed his helmet. White hair rested on his shoulders, and his eyes adjusted to the light. He walked over to his mirror, washing his face. His skin, once smooth and flawless, covered by facial tattoos that marked him as part of a Dalish clan. Now, his skin had decayed, a result of a blight only the dark side cured him of. He knelt on his holopad, activating the communicator on it. Numerous holograms appeared, all wearing black cloaks, all of them strong in the dark side of the force. They included a Bith in silver armour, with a breather helmet, a giant of an alien known as a Muun, a blonde haired human woman with black diamond tattoos around her eyes, and a seemingly human dark lord, who covered his face completely with his hood.

"Azab, Agent Dorne sent us a very enlightening report," said the Bith.

"Enlightening how Darth Tenebrous?" Theron asked.

"You executed the entire clan, women, children," the woman said.

"I didn't expect to hear platitudes about mercy from you Darth Zannah."

"We do not provide platitudes, only guidance," the Maan said.

"The guidance you provided me, told me that I needed to put my past behind me Darth Plagueis, this was the best way for me to do that," Theron said.

"The council is not here for you to continually come to whenever you face struggle Theron Mahariel," the hooded man said.

A sound echoed through the room, like a wind. Theron felt something grip his neck. He grit his teeth together, remaining defiant, despite the incredible power of the Sith dark council.

"I knew struggle well before the dark council found me," Theron snarled. "I am the agent of your collective will, tell me what I must do, and I swear, by the wisdom of your training I will not fail you! I WILL NOT FAIL YOU!" Theron yelled.

He released a burst of force energy, cracking the walls. The hooded man tilted his head slightly, and then shook it, as if he was disappointed.

"Zannah, I believe you can provide our agent with sufficient guidance," the hooded man said.

The woman, Darth Zannah, smirked as the other holograms faded. Again, that wind blew throughout the room, and Theron gripped his head, screaming in agony.

* * *

Knight-Commander Meredith was used to committing acts of cruelty for the sake of order. But it paled in comparison to what the Sith could do. Kirkwall had two rulers, Viscount Dumar, and the dark lady of the Sith, Darth Lumaya. She was the true ruler of Kirkwall, the one everyone feared. Meredith's reputation, she acknowledged was feared, but it paled in comparison to Lumaya's. She had apparently been greatly wounded in her younger years, resulting in what the scientists called cybernetics being planted on her body. The woman emerged from her chambers, in silver armour fused to her skin, only the skin around her eyes was visible through the swath of cloth around her face.

"Knight Commander," she said, her eyes showing a strain of respect for her.

"Lady Lumaya, we've recovered the apostate," Meredith began, walking with Lumaya down the halls of the Kirkwall tower.

"He's no longer an apostate Meredith, he is back where he belongs, have the First-Enchanter gather every mage and bring them to the assembly halls, every last one Meredith," she said.

"Yes lady Lumaya," Meredith bowed her head, before walking in a separate direction.

First Enchanter Orsino was already out of his office. The elf had tired eyes, and his robes were dishevelled. He nodded to Meredith and began walking with her.

"He caused an incident Orsino," Meredith told him.

"Do you justify everything they do to me? Or yourself Meredith?" Orsino asked

"A war was fought, we lost," Meredith said. "Now speak no more of it!"

"One day someone's going to say enough, no more," Orsino said.

"I said, speak no more of it!"

Orsino turned away from Meredith in disgust. They each gather the members of their respective groups, every enchanter and knight, every apprentice and recruit, every student and servant. The assembly hall was packed with robes and armour, all of them silent, all watching the offending mage getting chained to the floor. He looked around at them, his eyes pleading for help, even though his body had already given in, putting him to his knees.

"Tell us all your name," Lumaya commanded the man, removing her sabre from her belt.

"Karl Thekla," he said.

"And what were you hoping to achieve Karl?" the dark lady asked him.

"I was, trying to free myself," he said.

"What?"

"I was trying to free myself," he said louder.

"Free yourself," Lumaya repeated the words, and scoffed. "Do you know what you achieved Karl?"

"I defied the empire," he grit his teeth together as he spoke.

"No, to defy us you'd actually have to matter, you led our troopers on a merry chase, during which the alienage was burnt half to the ground, leaving a quarter of the city's denizens without their homes, burning the storehouses with their food and resulting in riots and deaths of many other citizens. In the end, people died, and you are still not free," Lumaya explained.

She ignited her sabre, unique in the fact it didn't produce a blade. Coils of energy came out of the device, like pieces of a whip. Lumaya cracked it across the ground, causing Karl to flinch. Slowly she walked past him, prolonging his suffering before it even begun. Meredith looked over at Orsino, to his credit he hadn't closed his eyes yet. Then Lumaya swung her light whip, and the screaming started. With every lash, Karl cried out, and mage and templar alike had to watch. There was no blood, only horrific burns.

"Stand up," she commanded.

Karl shook his head, trying to remain defiant. But Lumaya raised her hand, commanding him with the force. She dominated his mind, moving his body for him. Yet, he was completely aware that he was being manipulated like a puppet. His knees shook, in fear and pain, people could see that his trousers were soaked with something besides blood.

"The penalty for thievery is losing a hand, let me show you what happens when you run," Lumaya said.

She swung her whip, wrapping the coils around Karl's left leg. Slowly, they sunk into the skin, causing him to scream out in pain louder than he had during the whipping. Then with a tug, Lumaya sliced the leg into ribbons. Karl tilted back and forth, trying to maintain his balance. Lumaya then swung her whip again, this time cleanly cutting off Karl's right leg. He slammed head first into the ground, coughing out vomit and crying. Lumaya sheathed her sabre and turned away.

"If anyone helps him, they'll lose a hand," she said.

He was to stay where he was, as an example to others. The Sith were cruel, but they were the ones in charge.

* * *

Punishment came in the streets of Kirkwall too. Several rioters had been shot by the guard-troopers, their bodies left on display. Isabela had to keep her charge from trying to get the bodies down.

"Don't, they'll shoot you before you can even untie the knots," she said firmly.

The red haired beauty grit her teeth underneath her hood. Leliana gave in to Isabela's demand and continued following her down the streets of Kirkwall's Lowtown, towards the harbour.

"Things in Kirkwall are much more different than they are in Orlais or Ferelden," Isabela said.

"They're hard there too," Leliana retorted.

"It's hard everywhere sweet thing, it was all hard before ships started coming down from the sky."

"I know that, I know that morality wasn't a valuable thing on this planet even before we found out we weren't alone, I know that if I try to help and I get caught, there's a good chance I could suffer a fate worse than death. Do you think my own life matters to me?" Leliana asked.

"I don't think so, you're one of the good people Leliana, but there's no such thing as a good person who lives long in a cruel world," Isabela said.

They continued walking until they reached the meeting point. It was a small warehouse owned by one of Kirkwall's noble families, the Amells. Once the workers there ushered them into safety, they were greeted by two hooded figures. They threw their disguises aside, revealing Gamlen Amell and his daughter Charade Amell. Gamlen Amell succeeded his father as head of the Amell family sometime after the Sith came to power. He disavowed the branch family of the Amell clan, whom had continued to rebel until all but one had been executed, and supported the cities integration into galactic culture. Secretly however the man supported those who defied the empire.

"Lady Nightingale," Gamlen tipped his head in respect.

"Lord Amell, thank you for agreeing to this," Leliana said.

"I only agreed because of your need to get into Ferelden, coincided with plans I already had," Gamlen said.

"What were those?" Leliana asked.

Gamlen however grimly closed his mouth, grumbling to himself.

"Father, Leliana is part of the resistance," Charade said.

"But she isn't," Gamlen retorted, pointing at Isabela.

"Oh Gamlen, you don't trust little old me? Especially when I've already done such good work for you," the captain sighed. "I've already accepted the contract, if I betray an employer, I'll never get work again," she explained.

"Kind of like all those slaves you deliver when the Imperium wants cheap transport," Gamlen said.

"If you don't want my help, I can always give you the money back and..."

"No, that's not necessary Isabela, father please stop, this isn't the time to be self righteous, even cousin understands that," Charade said.

"Cousin?" Leliana raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"Isabela will take you to Highever, but she'll also be taking resistance fighters there, additional smugglers we've paid will go to Amaranthine, carrying out a simultaneous attack in cooperation with the Ferelden resistance," Gamlen explained.

"Whose organised this insanity?" Isabela asked.

"According to my cousin's letters another relative of ours, a circle mage," Charade said, causing Isabela to laugh.

"Oh how sweet, a closeted circle mage whose probably spent half his life in the tower, suddenly thinks he's a revolutionary, this is going to fail spectacularly," she explained.

"It's a gamble, is the Ferelden resistance really that strong? They failed when Maric led them, how is this young man from the tower any different?" Leliana asked.

"He was always different, his mother Revka called him a child of miracles," Gamlen smiled slightly, as if reliving a memory.

"What happened?"

"When the Sith bombarded Kirkwall as a show of power, many citizens died. My uncle found a baby amongst the rubble, Revka's child, unscathed. So many people died that day, yet he survived. Later on, I saw...I could call it anger, but there was something more in that boy's eyes, whenever he'd see another suffer because of the empire, he was a mere toddler and he was outraged by what was happening. When he was still just a boy, the branch family were discovered to be supporting your true faith. Revka was wounded, to save his mother, the boy performed blood magic, the first member of our family to awaken as a mage for generations. He performed blood magic in a way that was unprecedented, to save a life," Gamlen explained.

"I think there is a chance he's been planning this since he was sent to the tower," Gamlen said.

"What is this man's name?" Leliana asked.

"Yes, I'd love to meet him," Isabela grinned.

"Daylen Amell!"

* * *

Theron was again, storming through the corridors of the Star destroyer, moving as if he had a new sense of purpose. His mask covered his face, as it always did when he was out of his quarters. Walking past fearful troopers and other ship staff, Theron made his way to the brig. There was only one noteworthy prisoner there, Merrill, first of the Sabrae clan. She was in a chair with numerous straps covering her arms, wrists, and legs. There was still that defiant look in her eyes, a look that didn't match her petite frame. But it was a look Theron was familiar with. Four Knight-troopers were with the girl, watching her, in case her disruptor collar malfunctioned.

"Hello Theron," Merrill said.

"My name is Azab, the abandoned," he said.

"Is that what you think we did Theron, there was no other option, you and Tamlen were..."

"DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!" Theron yelled.

Merrill remained silent, but her eyes, gone was the defiance. Instead, with her eyes alone, she was appealing to whatever goodness remained in Theron, as if she knew him intimately.

"The human woman, the hand of the divine, where is she going?" Theron asked.

"Why are you doing this Theron? Weren't we friends?"

"Actually Merrill, I always found you annoying, the keeper I loved like she was my own mother...and if I killed the Keeper, what do you think I'll do to you?"

His masked face was inches from hers. He saw her gulp in fear, then put on a brave face again.

"So be it," he said.

He stepped back and then raised his hands. The troopers and Merrill heard a sound of some kind, like a low pitched wind, echoing throughout the room. Then Merrill felt something pushing against her body. Theron bought his hand closer to Merrill's face, and gleams of sweat began to drop down it. She struggled in the chair, feeling the dark side of the force penetrate her mind.

"I can see inside your mind, your fears, your feelings, you actually thought you, and Mahariel had a chance, he found you annoying...you thought of the Keeper as a mother, she would have disappointed you. Now imagine yourself in Arlathan, the great city of our ancestors, glorious and proud. Imagine its fall Merrill, not to the humans, but to civil war, our gods were false, our legacy as the victims was false, imagine it Merrill, we destroyed our own society and then spent thousands of years searching for answers when we knew them all along, that we were no different than the humans we despised. Then, comes the empire, and no more false gods!"

Merrill let out a scream, and Theron backed away.

"Now, tell me what the Keeper gave Leliana," he commanded.

"No," she shook her head.

Again Theron applied pressure to her mind.

"Imagine the pain you felt when you had to say goodbye to two men you loved, imagine the sorrow when you ignored their pleas for help, imagine it Merrill. You abandoned them, members of your clan, people you loved! You and your keeper ABANDONED THEM!" Theron yelled, he lifted the chair off of the ground and spread Merrill's limbs in an X shape.

"No more, no more please," Merrill pleaded.

"Stop this," one of the Knight-troopers said. "If you're as powerful as you say, can't you just pluck the information from her mind?" he asked.

Theron extended his hand, slamming the trooper against the wall.

"Tell me Merrill, tell me and this can all end, TELL ME!"

"For Maker's sake, answer him," the Knight-trooper said.

"SILENCE!"

"NEVER!" Merrill yelled.

Suddenly the door behind them opened, and Vasil stepped in.

"STOP THIS MADNESS!" he yelled.

Upon his order, the troopers aimed their rifles at Theron. He dropped Merrill, looking at the agent, the normal man, with a glare underneath his mask.

"I also contacted the council Azab, they told me that if you do not fall in line, and obey my commands, they will send another agent, one who knows how to keep order," the officer explained.

Theron let out deep breaths as he walked past Dorne, ignoring the blasters being aimed at him. The Knight-trooper ran a hand across the visor of his helmet, his hands shaking in fear.

"They are terrifying, force users, but they aren't all mad dogs like him," Vasil said, offering the trooper his hand. "You're relieved from guard duty, go to the med bay for reconditioning...Alistair right?"

The trooper nodded his head, looking at Merrill as he walked away.

'That wasn't an interrogation, it was torture, executing the clan, torturing an old friend, this is pure evil,' Alistair thought.

Vasil then focused his attention on Merrill, offering to help her up. She retreated, crawling back towards the wall.

"I understand, and I'm sorry for Agent Azab's lack of professionalism. I cannot force you to answer, you have your duty, but I also have mine. I won't enjoy it as Azab does, but I will not hesitate to carry it out. Leliana will seek out transport, the best places for that are here, and Ostwick, she's trained in piloting from undercover work she did as a bard. Unless she gets a boat from here, but I have to assume she's not going to come to the most heavily populated imperial territory, so I'll have to contact the governors of Ostwick and command them to purge all the places she will most likely be hiding, like the elven alienages," Dorne explained.

Merrill's eyes widened in horror, as Dorne gripped her shoulders.

"So tell me what I want to know, narrow down my search, so that innocents don't have to die," he said.

"You can't kill them," Merrill said.

"I can, and I will, what I do is evil, unlike Azab I have no delusions about that, but it must be done, you understand sacrifice don't you Merrill?" Dorne asked.

She remained silent, looking away from the man. He gripped her chin, making her look him in the eyes.

"Yes, you do, I can see it in your eyes, so make the sacrifice Merrill, tell me where Leliana will be hiding, save your people, save all of the innocents down there, one life for thousands," the agent waited, seeing Merrill's determination and defiance slip.

There was more than one method of interrogation.

* * *

Daylen Amell didn't just study magic. He studied technology too, the empire added books on known technology and science to the library. Daylen studied those, but hidden in his usual book on hyper drives and warp equations (things he focused on becoming intimately familiar with) was a manual that Lily had smuggled in. It showed blue prints, both of ships, and their cockpits, it was a basic manual for piloting trainees. When he meditated, he built intricate simulations in his mind, based on what he read. He asked several of the students on his side to do the same thing between their studies.

"Daylen," he heard Cullen's voice and opened his eyes.

He noticed the look in Cullen's eyes, he was distracted by something, something that weighed heavily on his conscious. Daylen didn't question Cullen's loyalty to the cause though, he'd lost a brother to the empire's cruelty, and had witnessed more through his Templar training, and later his career in the tower. Daylen stood up, closing the book and putting it back in the book case.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"You've been chosen Daylen, but there are others, two more," Cullen said.

"What? But I thought there could only be two!"

"Clearly Darth Kaius wants to do things differently."

Daylen nodded his head, considering the situation carefully. He had made a plan in case he was chosen as an apprentice. Greigor would lead things at the tower, and he would do what he could to weaken defences at Denerim. Three hopefuls was unprecedented. Daylen followed Cullen to the spire. Once there, Daylen widened his eyes at whom he saw in the arena, whilst Cullen lowered his head in shame, shame that Greigor and Wynn shared. Darth Kaius however looked down from his perch and smirked. Daylen's competitors were to be Keili and Nelia.

Next Episode 4: Tragedy

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, I know it was short, there is also a lot of build up to when things really get started.


	4. Episode 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

A longer chapter this time, introducing some more characters, but remember the name of the episode.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 4: Tragedy

Daylen looked at his opponents, with the same measure of shock they had. Neither Keili, nor Nelia believed they would have a third opponent. They were both dressed in their training uniforms, both ready to fight each other, but not someone they both had feelings for. Three Shadow guards stepped into the arena, holding their red bladed sabre staffs. They deactivated the blades and shortened the length of the staves, until they were short enough to be held as swords. Then they rolled them across the arena, using their small training in the force to guide the light sabres to the feet of the potential apprentices. Daylen looked down at the handle, and then up at Darth Kaius.

"I refuse to take part in this," he said.

Cullen took a step forward as the troopers aimed their blasters at Daylen, but Greigor quickly blocked him with his arm, shaking his head. Darth Kaius raised his hand, and the troopers lowered their weapons.

"Only one apprentice will be chosen, the rules of the arena are simple, one must die so another may rise, it doesn't matter which," the Sith lord said. "Fight, or you'll all die!"

Keili picked up her sabre, clumsily activating its blade. Nelia hesitated longer than the religious mage, but eventually activated her blade too. They looked at Daylen, who looked at both with pleading expressions, then they faced one another and charged.

* * *

Not all in Thedas struggled to live, or lived in fear. There were those whom enjoyed lives of luxury offered by their new positions, positions some of them may never have had in their previous lives. Divine Victoria, once known as Vivienne De Fer, enjoyed a greater spa than the old ways could offer. She bathed in a warm and bubbly bath, had cream and fruit applied to her face, and enjoyed the massages given to her by a younger, and gentle fingered Twi'lek servant. All she had to do once in a while was tell the people of Thedas to worship the true god, the emperor.

Even though Vivienne was actually sceptical of this emperor's existence, or of how far reaching the empire was. She'd had time to study star charts and timelines her servants gave her, but she still had her doubts. Apparently the empire was enjoying an unsteady peace with another faction out there in the galaxy, though Vivienne doubted that too. In fact, she was living such a luxurious and peaceful life now, she dismissed any form of conflict.

"Want me to rub your back my love?" a voice asked behind her.

Vivienne turned in her bath, taking the cucumber slices off of her eyes, and looking at her lover, Duke Bastien. She captured his lips with hers, their affair would be a scandal, but none of the servants would speak. After dressing in her finest robes, Vivienne and Bastien took a walk to the grand cathedral. All bowed their heads to the divine, who began walking towards the alter, to begin another televised address to the people. On her walk there, she saw some of the other noble families of Orlais, including Marjolaine the bard, whom had ascended to the position of an imperial agent. She wore a fancy dress of Orlesian design, but even without the dull grey and black uniform of other agents, she was still technically on duty. Then there were members of Bastien's family, Dutchess Florianne, the empress of Orlais herself Celene, and ban of the Ferelden Alienage Briala. Vivienne wouldn't have allowed an elf of Briala's reputation to have free reign at court, or even to be publically acknowledged as Celene's lover. The dark lord of the Sith stationed in Orlais, had no regard for its traditions, and repeatedly put down those who carried out political moves on one another, yet did nothing when an attack was made on him.

This Dark lord of the Sith went by the name Darth Asher. He was human, and the most unassuming looking person one could meet. The man wore the traditional sith robes of a black, hooded coat, with red and silver armour on his chest, and around his arms. His hair was dark and styled into a pony tail, and he wasn't overtly tall or had the muscle one would expect of a warrior. The man's face was often care free, and he spoke politely with a common imperial accent.

"Divine Victoria," he bowed his head in respect.

Vivienne bowed in turn, before making her way completely to the altar. She presented herself as always, firm and unstoppable, the iron lady, with the will and etiquette expected of the divine, and the mouth of the empire. Camera droids floated around the room, capturing footage of Vivienne's face and sending it across the territory of Thedas.

"People of Thedas, my children, in the past few days, our new rulers have completed the means to fully integrate us into imperial society, the technological wonders they have given us have improved aspects of our lives, transport, education, medicine, what was seen as incurable twenty years ago is now something a simple doctor's visit can fix. Even the blights and darkspawn need no longer be feared. Yet still there is resistance? Why? Is it so difficult to accept the rule of new gods? Let us not be driven back to the dark ages of the past, let us end this dragon age, so we can move into the star age and take our rightful place in the galaxy," she explained, addressing the people, all part of her charade.

The game was still being played. When she seemingly finished her speech, some of the lights on the camera droids changed, from blue, to green. The cameras then slid aside, revealing miniaturised blasters, but still powerful enough to kill. They slowly began to float around Darth Asher, whom remained casual. He raised his hand, as if to ask a question.

Then, much to Vivienne's horror, the droids began to shake, and then explode. The Orlesian nobility looked up in shock as the bits of the droids rained down on them. Darth Asher looked towards Vivienne, smirking slightly as she hid her horror, with the same shock the other nobility had. The dark lord was responsible for the execution of Celene's mother, so Vivienne assumed that Asher would simply dismiss the droids as one of Celene's attempts to kill him. Darth Asher began to clap his hands in front of the nobility.

"A good try divine Victoria," he said, raising his hands as if applauding Vivienne.

Vivienne didn't usually sweat, she was the iron lady, she maintained a cool composure. Yet still, every eye in the cathedral was on her. Bastien looked up at her in concern, whilst Asher was smiling.

"Don't worry Victoria, I'm not angry, you'd actually have to give me something to be angry about," Asher said. "It's just one of your political moves, I completely understand, it keeps me on my toes. Perhaps next time you'll be more emotionally invested in my death," the man explained.

"I'm sorry my lord, I don't understand," Vivienne said.

"Oh, yes, the old denial, you Orlesian's really don't like being honest with one another. Okay let's get some more cameras in here," he clapped his hands, and more camera droids began to float into the room. He grabbed one, putting it in front of his face. "People of Thedas, elves, Qunari, everybody, are you as sick of the Orlesian's as I've become? Sick of their lies? Sick of the deception? The answer is yes of course, everyone hates Orlais. So here's some honesty, I would relish killing every single person in this cathedral. But I have more self control, so I won't do that, but I would like to let everyone know that I wouldn't weep if they died. Now, everyone else! Speak your deepest darkest secrets!"

The Sith Lord's face remained firm as he ran his hand over the crowd. Slowly, the faces of the nobles changed, their expressions became almost empty, as if they were under a trance. A Sith mind trick, the kind Asher had used on the generation before them, he had just been a boy at the time and he drove the entirety of the court to confess to numerous crimes against one another. Vivienne shook her head in dismay as one by one, the nobility began to speak.

"The killer of elves security is looking for, I am he, I kill the elves because I hate them and would love to see the alienage purged."

"I actually hate the game, I would like to be a tailor."

"I regularly beat my children!"

"I am married, but I prefer the company of men."

"I know he prefers men, that's why I've hired crows to assassinate him."

"I'm actually a mage!"

"I don't believe in the maker, I secretly follow the Qun!"

"I've been secretly supporting a rebel sect hidden within the city."

"When I'm at home I dress up in women's clothing, I still like women, I just find their clothes comfortable."

Then it came to Celene and Briala, both of whom remained silent. Their minds were stronger, and Asher knew that. The line of nobles got shorter, and finally it came to Bastien. Vivienne prayed that her darling was strong enough to resist the force's pull.

"I have been having an affair with Divine Victoria, I know she is simply using me for my power, but I love her more than anything in the world."

Vivienne hid her shock well. She remained calm and composed as Asher looked up at her. The cameras were again on her. All of Thedas was waiting to hear her secret. One part of the screen split, to show Bastien, and the other Vivienne.

"Well Lady Divine, do you have anything to confess?" Asher asked.

He waited, and still Vivienne remained silent.

"I know your secret Vivienne, you may as well let Bastien's last memory be a good one," Asher said, drawing his light sabre and putting it to Bastien's neck. "Tell the truth Vivienne, tell the truth!"

But Vivienne remained silent, cold, even as Bastien cast his eyes to the ground in utter defeat. Asher sighed, shaking his head, before he took off Bastien's. The entire church looked at Asher in fear, save for his troopers and acolytes, all loyal to him, all knowing his quirks.

"Oh well," he said, deactivating his sabre and strapping it to his belt.

He then walked up to each noble who had confessed, sweeping his hand over each one.

"Go to the guards and confess your crimes!"

"If you have a dream fulfil it, be a tailor."

"Send your children to the academy in Tevinter, then for every time you've hit them, hit yourself, twice as hard!"

"Be true to who you are, and good luck with the assassins."

"Don't dirty yourself through assassins, just walk away from him, get yourself another man who will love you."

"Don't be ashamed of it, relish your power, go to the academy at Tevinter."

"Again, be true to who you are, stop coming to mass and pretending, dress like a Qunari for force sake."

"You, tell Imperial security everything you know about your rebel friends."

"You find women's clothes more comfortable, fine, start dressing up in drag in public."

Asher took a deep breath, sighing in relief.

"You see, isn't a bit of honesty a good thing, for force sake I thought I'd gotten away from all deception when I left the imperial capital," he said. "Good mass as always Victoria, perhaps next time you'll be more emotionally invested."

Divine Victoria maintained her composure, until she reached her house. When her servants were gone, she removed her headdress and collapsed. Vivienne screamed and cried for the first time in years, for she knew now the agony of loss.

* * *

He knew agony well, it was what dominated most of his life. Every moment he slept, and the occasional moment he was awake, he felt pain across his skin. The lyrium imbedded within his body gave him abilities most men craved. But he didn't want them, or at least now he didn't want them. The silver haired elf walked into his usual drinking ground, the hanged man. Varric waved him over, where a bounty hunter also sat, Fenris heard people call him 'the exiled prince'.

"Good, you're here elf, had time to brood?" Varric asked.

"I do not brood," Fenris said.

"If you brooded anymore, women would be having broody babies in your honour, now come on, my room's a little more private," Varric said.

He led them both to his private room, where no serving girl would go into unless called to. They sat at a table that would usually be used for card games, or Varric's writing. Now, it was being used for business, and Varric kept the light dim as he spoke.

"I've got an offer for you, there's no money in it, and we'll probably end up dead if we fail. But, if we succeed, we'll be taking a legitimate stand against the empire," the dwarf explained.

Both men remained silent for a moment, each taking in what they had been told.

"I am in," Fenris said.

"Wait, what exactly is the plan?" Sebastian asked.

"Simultaneous assaults on the three major cities of Ferelden, we got in by boat at Highever and Amaranthine," Varric said.

"I once thought that magic was pure evil, I realise the Sith are the ones who are evil, they must be stopped," Fenris said.

"I don't like the empire, I hate them but...what chance do we have?"

"There isn't a Star Destroyer in Ferelden, but there are factories there, for weapons and armour. Its vulnerable in a way most other outposts aren't, we can infiltrate the two coast cities, whilst the main body of the Ferelden resistance attacks Denerim," Varric explained.

"This could be a trap," Sebastian suggested.

"Maybe, but I know one thing, I'm not going to stand by anymore as innocent people are abused by the Sith for no good reason," Varric said.

"What's bought on this sudden burst of morality?" Sebastian asked.

"Seeing everyday what is done to people, by the Sith, growing up and watching, it's the reason I wrote so many fairy tales, as an escape. Now however, for the first the time in years, someone has approached me with a way to genuinely hurt the Sith. But it's not just the attack, it's what the story itself will mean if it succeeds," Varric explained.

"What do you mean?" Fenris asked.

"There is power in stories, a story going from one group to another, can be just as powerful as any blaster. This story, once it spreads, will ignite a fire across the planet," there was a passion in Varric's voice neither of the hunters had heard before.

Varric told a story well, and the pair believed him, both standing up and nodding their heads. In the streets of lowtown, under the cover of the night, citizens began moving out of their homes. They passed bundles of cloth to one another, the relay made its way up to the warehouses of the Amell family. Inside them, Charade and others unrolled the bundles, revealing food, clothing fit for combat. Gamlen pried open a truck, checking over the blasters and pistols. Miners of the bone pit carried boxes of armour and blades, all made from dragon bone, one of the hardest materials in Thedas. Dwarves carefully put homemade bombs into pouches, and gave explosives arrows to local game hunters. Outside, members of Isabela's crew oversaw the loading of the materials into her ship.

Isabela herself however, was sitting, half naked in her bed, stroking the head tails of a Twi'lek dancer. She took her goblet of wine and began to drink. As the dancer slept, Isabela wrapped the bed sheet around her body and got off the bed. Tomorrow, she would begin sailing to Ferelden, to take part in a plan she didn't truly believe in. She had seen the evils committed by the empire, but accepted them.

'There is no justice in the world,' she thought.

She knew she was beautiful, at least on the outside to people. Her husband saw her, and immediately decided that he had to have her. He was a trader for the empire, classed as an 'imperial agent' even though he mostly making his own profit on the side. When he was assassinated, Isabela profusely thanked the assassin who did the deed. She was free, and with her freedom she became a smuggler herself. Her continued freedom was only because of her contribution to the empire. But that didn't stop her from falling in love with a man after she was freed. Foolishly, he asked for her hand in marriage. Isabela refused to be chained like that, so she left him, breaking his heart.

'There is no love, only passion, there is no responsibility, only burdens,' she imagined her own form of code, like what she had heard the Sith spout sometimes.

Suddenly, her door was thrown open, and troopers came into the room. They were led by agent Dorne, a man Isabela often worked with for cheap and covert food transportation.

"You could have knocked, we could have been in the middle of something," Isabela jibed.

"We've been tracking a resistance fighter, the 'Nightingale' of the true faith," Dorne said.

"And you have come to me why?" Isabela asked.

"Don't play ignorant with me Isabela, I got Intel from a Dalish elf, she's going to Ferelden, your ships manifesto states that you're going to Ferelden delivering materials from the Amell mine, it wouldn't be out of your way to deliver her to her destination as well," Dorne explained.

"Castillon's here, he might know where she is," Isabela said.

"Except Nightingale doesn't have deep enough pockets to afford Castillon, she's desperate, she'd trust you, the most moral smuggler in Kirkwall."

"Moral, HA! I think not," Isabela said.

"You can pretend you're that shallow, you might even think you are, but I know you're not. Still, I'll appeal to the...shallowness," Dorne clicked his fingers.

Two imperial agents came in, carrying a bag of gold between them. Isabela whistled at the sight.

"Your weight in gold, for the information," Vasil said.

"Are you trying to say I'm fat? I have put on a bit of weight haven't I," Isabela showed off, and looked at her thighs, making some of the soldiers turn away.

"You can take the gold, or I can take you into custody," the agent said.

'Shit,' Isabela thought.

If they took her in, that would delay her work with the Amells, and there was a good chance she would break and spill everything. Then she would be chained again, she was willing to do anything to keep that from happening.

"So do you have a quill or one of those typing pad things?"

"No Isabela, you're going to get dressed, and you're going to take us there," Dorne said.

Slowly, Isabela nodded her head. She put on her panties, boots, her signature white top and her bandana. After putting on her gloves, she grabbed her belt from the edge of the bed, it had both a blaster and her knives in them. Strapping them around her waist, she swayed her hips slightly, knowing some of the troopers were distracted by her. Dorne however wasn't, he was a married man, probably with children, but he was the kind of man who didn't talk about his family. If he could judge her, Isabela was sure she could judge him. He was professional and had integrity, which is why she wasn't surprised when the man saw who was waiting outside, and his eyes widened.

"Lady Lumaya," he identified the Sith, and looked at the dark Jedi beside her.

Azab and Lumiya were accompanied by Meredith and her Knight-troopers, and the red armoured and robed Sith mages.

"Agent Dorne, well done on extracting the information on the whereabouts of the rebel known as Nightingale, I will now take command," Lumiya said.

"You're well within your right to take command, though I did want to conclude this business without involving you," Dorne said.

"I have already made examples of the in greats in the tower, now we will finish this foolish resistance, and take back whatever they stole," Lumiya explained.

She looked at Isabela, and for once, Isabela felt true fear. Just looking at the metal woman made her chest feel tight and her legs heavy as she began leading the imperial troops to dark town. People remained in their houses, good, Isabela wanted no other lives on her conscience.

'Not that they're on my conscience, they didn't have to give Leliana shelter,' Isabela told herself.

She pointed at the small hut, not exactly a fortress, but it was a good enough hiding place. Dorne grabbed Isabela by her arm, looking her in the eyes.

"You stay and watch what happens next," he said.

He walked ahead of the troopers, taking a loud speaker from one.

"We know you are hiding lady Nightingale, bring her out now, or we will bring her out for you," he said.

A few seconds passed, then a minute, sweat ran down Isabela's face, wondering if Leliana had fled already? Dorne waited another moment, then removed his cap, wiping his head with a sigh before nodding to the troopers.

"WAIT!"

A pair of hands poked out of the curtain that was the hut door. Leliana emerged, the family whom hid her, behind her. She kept her hands raised, walking slowly towards the imperial troops as the family huddled together. They were thin people, dirty, yet Isabela imagined they may have been happy once, two people who were free to marry and have a son and two daughters.

'Stop it Isabela, stop thinking that rubbish, this isn't your fault,' she told herself. 'No responsibility, only freedom!'

Two troopers approached Leliana, taking off her belt of weapons and patting her down for more. She kept her hands raised, lowering them as the troopers cuffed them.

"You have me, now execute me, I know you Sith don't exactly have prisons," Leliana said.

"You'll be interrogated on the star destroyer, before being sent to Orlais for trial," Dorne said.

"Trial? There's no such thing as a trial in the empire Vasil Dorne!"

Dorne didn't flinch at the glare Leliana gave him. But there was even deeper look of hatred aimed at Isabela.

"We paid her, more than you could afford obviously," Dorne said.

Leliana shook her head, then looked at Lumiya with a frown as she approached. The lady of the Sith's metal hand grasped Leliana's chin, turning her face once, then again.

"Impressive, I've not met many people who aren't force sensitive who could evade us for so long," Lumaya said.

"We don't need the force to fight you, or even magic, there's a strength in us you cannot begin to grasp," Leliana retorted.

"What is that strength Nightingale? Is it compassion? Your compassion landed you here, whilst Isabela's compassion, or lack of it, resulted in us finding you. Is it unity? You have given yourself up to save one family, when surely your mission is more important than them, and again, Isabela gave you up. Where is your strength Nightingale?"

Lumaya ignited her light whip, cracking it as she turned to the Knight-troopers.

"Knight-Commander Stannard, command your men to fire on this family," she said.

The Knight-troopers, one in particular, raised their heads in confusion.

"Lady Lumaya?" even Meredith was taken aback.

"You've got what you want let them go," Leliana said.

"Tell them, that if they do not execute them, my acolytes will kill them. If even one trooper does not fire his blaster, I will have this entire section burnt to the ground," Lumaya explained.

With a hiss, Azab ignited his sabre, and the Sith mages lit their hands with fire and electricity. Slowly, Meredith pulled out her pistol, aiming it at the family. The father stepped in the way, doing everything he could to shield his family.

"Stop this please, this isn't necessary," Leliana said.

"READY!" Meredith yelled.

The troopers raised their blasters.

"AIM!"

They looked down the sights, though many couldn't bring themselves to look at the family. Carver however did, he saw his father, his mother, his sisters and himself as children. His hands shook and he let out deep breaths. Dorne lowered his head in shame, knowing he could do nothing to stop this. Isabela however stood in complete shock, unable to even justify any of this, or her part in it.

"PLEASE NO!" Leliana yelled.

"FIRE!" Meredith pulled the trigger, followed by the other troopers.

Red bolts crashed into the family, blowing holes through their home. The volley had done more than kill them, it had ripped them apart. Meredith looked at the body of the younger girl, seeing in her place, a girl that looked more like her.

'Maker...Amelia, what have we become?' she wondered, looking at her templars.

'What have I done?' so many people there asked themselves.

* * *

Red blades clashed in the tower. Daylen looked at the two girls in shock, just like his allies did. They were locking their sabres together, both looking at one another with the intent to kill. Nelia pushed Keili back slightly, and yanked her blade free. She swung it at Keili, who raised her sabre to block it. The sparks singed Keili's cheeks, and she shoved Nelia back, pushing her to the ground. Nelia swiped at Keili's legs, keeping her back as she got up. Nelia released a stream of fire from her hand, forcing Keili to step back. The brown haired girl looked at the fire in fear. She stepped back, and the ground beneath her glowed green, revealing a rune. It paralysed her, keeping her stuck in place. Nelia then deactivated her sabre.

'Smart, Keili's never been very good with her magic, and her sword form's weak, but Nelia can only beat her in one area without killing her,' Daylen thought.

"This fight only ends if someone dies, no binding," Kaius said.

He raised his hand, aiming the palm at Kieli, suddenly, the spell shattered and she was free. She then ran at Nelia, throwing a rock fist that she easily dodged. Nelia then ignited her sabre, blocked Kieli's strike, and drained some of her life force. Kieli fell to her knees, weak, her arms shaking as her blade burnt the ground in front of her. She let out a yell, swinging the sabre clumsily at Nelia, never even coming close to hitting her.

"Both of you stop," Daylen said.

He looked at the sabre on the ground, gritting his teeth together as Nelia continued blocking Kieli's strikes. Grabbing the sabre, he ignited it and put it to his neck. He hoped his death would stop the fighting. But no matter how much he tried to move his arm, he couldn't sweep the blade through his throat. He looked up at Kaius, who moved his finger to and fro, shaking his head in disapproval.

"This isn't just a battle to decide who is the best sword wielder or mage, the force answers to you, use it," Kaius said.

Daylen fell to his knees and looked at Nelia and Kieli, they were both beginning to move faster, swinging their sabres at one another with greater strength. He could feel the anger coming from them both, see the darkness around them. Wynn clutched her chest, feeling the weight of their emotions, their disgust with one another over their gods, their jealousy over their feelings for the same person. Greigor, Cullen and Uldred however, simply saw the growing speed of their duel, blurs of red slamming into one another.

"Yes that's it, lose yourselves in battle, AND REJOICE!" Kaius raised his hands in applause.

Nelia swung her sabre into Kieli's, sending her sliding across the floor. Screaming, Kieli threw her hand forward, throwing Nelia back. Kieli then raised her sword and ran towards Nelia. Suddenly, in a flash of blue mana, Daylen was in front of her, blocking her sabre with his.

"That was an arcane warrior technique," Wynn said.

"He can perform them just by reading about them?" Cullen asked.

Daylen looked at Kieli in surprise. Her strength was greater than it should be, Nelia was a more athletic girl, and there was nothing to Kieli. But the force, it strengthened them both, Kieli perhaps more so. It was as if she was possessed, her eyes gradually turned yellow.

'Strength doesn't always equal victory,' Daylen thought.

He stepped to the side, keeping his leg out and tripping Kieli to the floor.

'Kieli is increasing her stamina and strength with the force, but she's still not good with technique,' Cullen observed.

'The way Daylen is holding his sword, it's as if he's a natural swordsman, there is a great line of warriors from the Amell branch family, if his magic never awakened, I have no doubt he would have followed in their footsteps,' Greigor noted.

He and Wynn traded worried expressions as Daylen deactivated his blade.

"Blessed are those who stand before the wicked and the corrupt, and do not falter.' That is part of the prayer, don't you see what you're doing Kieli? You're becoming the wicked and corrupt, I've already started to go down that road Kieli, I don't want you or Nelia to go down it either," Daylen explained.

Kieli looked up at Daylen, her eyes returning to their normal blue.

"Daylen, I...I love you," she said.

Then suddenly, her sabre was activated again. She slashed Daylen's left eye, causing him to yell out in pain and fall backwards.

"I'll kill her, then when I'm strong enough, I'll come back and help you, we can strike down the wicked and corrupt together," Kieli said.

"You crazy bitch!" Surana snarled as she walked towards Kieli.

"You wanted it too, to become an apprentice, to come back one day and take him, well you won't take him, he's mine, he loves me, not a heathen elf like you," Kieli explained.

"Oh how can someone be so stupid, I understand Daylen much more than you do Kieli. He doesn't love any one person, he loves everyone, and it has nothing to do with sex or romance, he can't stand to see us fight, he can't stand to see anyone die, not even the Sith, if you even knew one thing about him, THEN YOU WOULDN'T BE FIGHTING!" Nelia yelled.

She threw her hands forward, sending Kieli flying back. For a moment, even the non force-sensitives saw it, the power that emanated from her. They saw her body covered in darkness, but her eyes glowing with a light that wrapped around her. Nelia lowered her hands, looking at them in shock.

"Interesting," Kaius hummed, looking at Nelia curiously.

She looked towards Daylen, he was gripping his burnt eye, but still looking at her in awe. She had always been the most beautiful woman in the world to him, a girl whose haired was kissed by fire, passion and wisdom personified. Now she was so much more, he saw her as the force itself.

"Watching us fight, its torn him apart, but I am a healer, I live to heal. I forgive you Kieli," Nelia said, lowering her hands as the power faded. "I even forgive you Kaius, for I know the darkness has trapped you too!"

She had a happy look on her face, even as Kieli began to approach her. Daylen got off of the floor, fighting the pain in his eye. But he quickly collapsed, writhing in pain, as if Kieli's strike had been poisonous. Nelia closed her eyes, as Kieli thrust her sabre.

"NO!" Cullen and Daylen yelled.

The last thing Daylen's left eye saw, was the red sabre bursting out of Nelia's back. Then, much to the horror of all but Kaius, Nelia's robes fell to the floor, her body having just vanished. Kieli however simply laughed, throwing her head back as she cackled.

"I did it, I did it, I BEAT YOU BITCH!" Kieli yelled.

Cullen grit his teeth together, then gripped his pistol.

"No," Greigor said, grabbing Cullen's wrist and keeping him from moving forward. "She's gone Rutherford, she's gone, Cullen please, do not add your own death to this tragedy, I beg of you!"

Cullen took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. He straightened his back, regaining the composure expected of a templar, showing the indifference that was expected when a templar lost his charge. Daylen however, continued to stare at Nelia's empty robes. Kaius jumped off of his platform, landing by Kieli and looked at the lack of her enemy's remains.

"Did you see it lord Kaius, my power was greater than hers," Kieli said.

"Fool," Kaius shook his head. "She's now more powerful than you'll ever be, she's become one with the force!"

He looked at Daylen, shaking his head in disappointment. Then he pulled Kieli's sabre out of her grip, deactivating it as he walked past her.

"I suppose you'll have to do!"

Next episode 5: Night of doubt

* * *

I struggled with this chapter, I knew what the Templars did in Kirkwall would constitute a tragedy, but I initially had different ideas for how the Keili and Nelia confrontation would end.

Initially I thought of Keili losing herself to the darkside, going insane (as she has in this chapter) and Nelia having to kill her in self defence, or more importantly to protect Daylen, leading to a story in which Daylen would have to save Nelia from the dark side. But that damsel role wasn't something I thought would do justice to an origin heroine. If this was the main game, Nelia's ending would be the sacrifice ending. In this chapter she temporarily achieves oneness with the force, but instead of using ultimate power, decides to sacrifice herself to save Daylen. I thought this ending would have a bigger impact on Daylen, and other characters as well.

Vivienne will play an important role in future stories (that's right I'm planning additional fics) with Darth Asher, who I imagined as looking like and being voiced by Tom Hiddleston (Loki)

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter as much as they could.


	5. Episode 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 5: Night of doubt

Daylen hadn't spoken in three hours, and he hadn't moved away from the library since he got there. Kaius was gone, with his new apprentice, and everyone, even Cullen, moved on from Nelia's death. He was sat, leaning against one of the book cases, holding a book about arcane warriors and reading it. Occasionally, he would manipulate mana in his hand, but it was only a light show, he couldn't form a construct like the Knight-Enchanters could. It seemed as if he was empty, but for those who knew him, knew that he was processing what had happened. Niall nervously walked over to the enchanter, rubbing the back of his head.

"Anders is back," he said, looking around for the Knight-Templars, there was only the ones they trusted looking at them, so Niall reached into his robe.

"I still don't understand what you planned to do with this, Anders was able to get it, said he smuggled it in through his...let's just say I'll have to wash my hands," Niall chuckled, but his smile faded as he looked down at Daylen. "I know more about the fade than I do about the force, my mother told me I was destined for great things, living here, seeing how you and she brought people together, I think all of us were destined for great things. But only if one of you is leading the way forward," he explained.

But Daylen remained silent, continuing to read his book.

"Don't take too long, you know what tomorrow is, I'll keep a hold of this until you're ready," Niall said.

The man kept looking back for Daylen, trying to see any sign of his words getting through to him. But the young man's eyes were still empty.

* * *

'It wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault,' she kept telling herself.

Isabela had been spending quite a lot of time drinking. It wasn't unusual for her, she liked to drink. Only now, she was beginning to realise why she liked it so much. Drinking numbed her pain, not just the physical pain, but all the stress and worries she bottled up inside. Only now, no matter how much she drank, she couldn't escape the guilty, and she acknowledged, even when drunk, that she did have something to be guilty about. All of the other attendants of the hanged man were gone, even Korf had left a bottle or two for Isabela.

"Pathetic," she muttered about herself.

Her hair was dishevelled, bags were under her eyes, and her world was half spinning. Gone was the women who could command so many men, gone was the woman who took many lovers, but never felt love. Now, she felt more like the skinny teenager in Rivain, who was worth a goat and a few gold coins. She felt more like the unchained, yet still bound woman who had to parade as a man's prize. Every bit of confidence she had, what she thought of her own image was crumbling, because she knew she had played a part in a tragedy. She led to several men pulling their triggers against innocents.

"They only wanted to be free, like you," she said to herself.

"Hey Rivain," a voice said below Isabela.

"Oh Varric, come to add more chapters to your story...the once proud queen of the sea, fell into booze and self pity," she said.

"Maybe," Varric jumped onto a stool, looking at the Rivaini, but not with pity.

"Why did you, you know, join the rebellion?" Isabela asked, whispering and chuckling the last part, hiccupping afterwards.

"If you want something so profound as my family was slaughtered by the empire, you'll be disappointed. My brother's a dedicated 'imperial officer' even though he's just a glorified businessman. I'm a professional younger brother, but I'm also a story teller."

"I think everyone in Kirkwall knows you're a story teller," Isabela said.

"Steamy sex, intrigue, betrayals, politics, there's plenty of that in the empire," Varric said.

"Hmm, love me the steamy sex!"

"We all like the Twi'leks, but there are some stories I can't tell with the Sith."

"And what are those, crime thrillers?" Isabela asked.

"Nope plenty of those, the tales that can't be told in the empire, are the tales of heroism, of people coming together for a common goal, of friendship and kindness overcoming brutality," Varric explained.

"So that's it, this whole rebellion has simply inspired you?"

"Let me tell you a story Isabela," Varric said, shocking her with the use of her name.

"Once there was a great noble family, the Amell family of Kirkwall. Aristide Amell was the head of the family, the trader, the politician, the man people didn't doubt would lead Kirkwall into a golden age when he became Viscount. Then there was his brother, Fausten, leader of the branch family, a traveller, a warrior, a scholar, a man of such kindness that no one doubted he would keep Kirkwall safe, whilst furthering the bonds it had with the other cities. The Amell family lived happily, both brothers married women they loved and sired both older daughters and sons, from Aristide there was Leandra and Gamlen, and from Fausten there was Revka and Damion."

"Then one day, one terrible day, the skies opened, and the empire came. For several months, the Amell family watched as the empire systematically wiped out all resistance, and established new governments. Seeing the hilarious gap between the empire and us, Aristide told his family that they must bow and do whatever was asked of them by the empire. Fausten however, believed that the empire did not simply come to our planet, our primitive world for Lyrium or mages, he believed there was more to their conquest than that."

"Also, the Amell family had a history of magic dating back to the fourth blight, he believed eventually a mage would be born into their family, and that that mage would be forced to join the Sith. Believing that the dark lords were the embodiment of evil, Fausten began preparing for a resistance, against his brother's wishes. Even in his sixties, Fausten was still a strong and skilled warrior, his son Damion, though not good with finances, was still a superb fighter in his own right. Between them they slew dragons from the Bone pit and secured materials that could be used to make armour. Revka however put her time into her love life, yet secretly worked with the true faith to study artefacts that apparently dated back to before even the time of the Evanuris."

"But the true faith hiding in Kirkwall was discovered, the Sith bombed the city, burying many. Within the flaming ruins of Hightown, Fausten and Revka searched for anyone that may be alive. But all they could find was the dead, not one person. They prayed, and prayed, and dug through the rubble to find anyone. Then, they finally found someone, a baby of all things. Small, weak, but with beautiful blue eyes. This single small child, survived whilst everyone else died."

"Proclaiming this child a miracle, Revka loved and raised him as her own. The child grew happy, and brought joy, even when Aristide discovered Leandra was pregnant with a mages child. Yet, some stories can only be driven forward by tragedy, and the story of the Amell family would not end yet. Fausten's actions were discovered, abandoned by his brother, he tried to do everything he could to ensure his family's survival. Despite being hopelessly outmatched, he challenged a Sith lord to trial by combat, one the child watched. When Fausten was cut down, the child rushed out of Revka's arms, towards Fausten."

"A determination, unlike any that had been seen in a child before, drove the boy to commit the impossible. His magic awakened as he bit into his hand, drawing blood from it. His blood then healed Fausten's wound, bringing him back from the brink of death. The Sith Lord though was not impressed, and beheaded Fausten in front of the boy. He held the boy up by his hair, and every member of the Amell family screamed. They bowed and begged, that this boy live!"

"No one knows whether they genuinely moved the Sith Lord with their pleas, or if he was simply bored with them. Either way, the boy lived, but was sent to live far away from the Amell family. Aristide lived out the rest of his days regretful, he lost his beloved brother to the empire, his daughter left him to raise his grandchild with her love and the rest of the branch family faded into obscurity before gradually dying off."

"But the boy, the boy who survived, he lived out his days in the circle, twenty years in the circle, seeing the evil that the Sith were capable of, even suffering their cruelty at times. He learnt anger, and above all patience, twenty years to plan not just an escape, but a rebellion. For whilst the generation before his was unprepared for the Sith arrival, his generation, knew what to expect, they would know exactly how to fight."

Isabela remained silent for a moment as Varric closed his tale.

"The story is only missing one thing," he said.

"What's that?" she asked.

"A scoundrel, who knows what the right thing to do is."

Isabela smirked, and then began to laugh.

"Who's the scoundrel, you or me?" she asked.

"Who says there has to be one scoundrel, besides I'm already the one telling the story, leave it in my hands, and it'll be awesome," Varric said.

"Actually, I wouldn't say I'm much of a scoundrel, more of a rogue," Isabela retorted.

"Rogue and scoundrel both apply to the same thing."

"Well not all of us had a perfect education."

Both friends laughed, Isabela poured Varric a drink and they drank together. She hadn't forgotten the part she had played in the deaths of innocents, but that was the point.

* * *

Anders was a man who loved his freedom. But he wanted others to be free too. So he often escaped, and smuggled in whatever he could. Rubbing his bottom, Anders walked towards the library. The blonde haired man was dressed in the Ferelden mage robes, but later on he fully intended on changing into an outfit he got from a nearby village. He looked down at Daylen, and rubbed the back of his head.

"Well shit, Surana's dead, she had a great arse," Anders said.

Daylen showed no reaction, and Anders grit his teeth together. In frustration he sat next to Daylen.

"You know, I got to look inside one of those fighters, not to burst your bubble Daylen but I think the fourth stage of your plan is going to be a bit difficult, there are a lot of switches," Anders whispered.

He waited for Daylen to answer back, believing he would think about it. But Daylen's face showed no change.

"Nice scar, I'm sure the new ladies we're bound to meet will love it, I know I find it sexy," Anders grinned, but he quickly dropped it when he saw it illicit no reaction.

Running a hand through his hair, and rubbing his eyes, Anders stood up.

"You know, one thing I did know about Nelia, was that she wouldn't have given up, especially when the rebellion she was planning since the day she got here was going to start in the morning," Anders explained.

He huffed, shaking his head as he walked away.

* * *

'It's all my fault, it's all my fault,' Alistair thought to himself.

He'd spent hours in the imperial gunship, looking at his Knight-Trooper helmet. Even when the others had gone, he was still there, looking at his reflection on the helmet visor. He thought about himself, and how far he had come. When he was just a boy, his father had been killed by the dark Jedi, his head put on display for just a few days, and then taken down and respectfully burnt in a royal funeral. Alistair was a bastard, the result of an affair King Maric had with an elf grey warden, Fiona. She raised him for a few years, then gave him to the Chantry. He spent most of his childhood learning contradictions about the maker, and the emperor. There were times he thought that the emperor was just a fiction, a figurehead created by the empire to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies.

But often, Alistair wondered what enemies the empire had, it was expanding, that much he knew. When he was old enough, the chantry sent him into the Knight-Trooper program. Alistair, though normally a wise cracker, did excellently, and even enjoyed the discipline of the trooper training. He mastered the techniques, without having to rely on the lyrium. There was a time he was considered for elite guard training because of the tremendous skill he showed with a force pike. If he accepted, he could have worn the blue, silver or even the red armour and robes, spent his days protecting VIP's. Alistair refused however, remaining in the Knight-Trooper program, because of what he believed.

The common belief in Thedas, was that everyone in the empire was the embodiment of evil. But in his time through trooper training, he encountered more reasonable people than he did unreasonable people. Those xenophobes, people who looked down on the locals, they often tried to pick fights with Alistair. But there were more people who congratulated him for his achievements, and spoke to him with respect. He'd witnessed troopers treat the natives kindly, often they treated elves or dwarves with more respect than any of the remaining Thedas nobility. Through his experiences with them, Alistair came to see the truth of the empire.

The truth, was that some people within the military, like within any kind of army, had simply joined for the power and authority they could get from it, or for just a legal way to carry out murder. But most were simple men and women, whom genuinely believed in the empire, whom truly believed that it could achieve order and stand for something more than just cruelty. That was why Alistair remained in the Knight-trooper program, because they were an improved version of the templars. Templars swore oaths, to stand against the wicked and corrupt, and not falter.

'For too long, we templars, we knight-troopers have fallen short of that oath,' Alistair thought as he stood up.

He began walking back to his quarters, stopping only when he saw agent Dorne.

"Alistair, good to finally see your face, I am sorry for the appalling order Lady Lumaya gave," Dorne said.

"Appalling order?" Alistair raised his eyebrows in disgust.

"You're right of course, appalling isn't even a good enough way to describe it, I've already sent a complaint to the brass, hopefully Lumaya will be replaced with a more reasonable governor," Dorne explained.

Alistair sighed, adjusting his grip on his helmet.

"Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Please Alistair we're not in an interrogation, you don't answer to me," Dorne said.

"I think your faith in the empire, in the military rules and in the power our superiors have is complete and utter dragon shit sir. You see if you were from Thedas you'd understand that reference, high dragons can let out steaming piles bigger than a house. You'd also understand our point of view more, the empire may be different in your homeland, but here, if you're not a force user or part of the human nobility, then you're not people, in the eyes of the Sith, of most of the higher ups, you aren't worth the time of day," Alistair explained.

Dorne was taken aback by the frustration in the boy's voice, and some of the truths.

"But at least with the empire, we got to improve our planet's medicine and transport," Alistair said, before he walked away, leaving the imperial agent with much to think of.

Alistair however, was through thinking, he wouldn't kill for the empire anymore.

* * *

He still hadn't moved, and it frustrated Bethany. She sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, knowing that she should be gentle with him.

"You aren't the only person whose suffered Daylen, you started all this because you realised that," she said.

She grabbed his face and gasped in shock. He had a scar over his left eye.

"You should have let someone heal this," she said, enveloping his face in a green light. "Can you see out of it Daylen, Daylen can you see out of it?" she asked.

She'd never seen his eyes so empty before.

"Daylen please don't do this now, not now of all days," Bethany said, putting her forehead against Daylen's. "I saw my father die Daylen, I watched him die, knowing he was doing it to protect me. A Sith cut him down because he criticised the dark side of the force. Now I'm criticising it, I heard what happened in there, Nelia gave her life so that you could live, because she knew you didn't want anyone to die."

"But Daylen, people are going to die, there will be nothing we can do about it, nothing you can do about it. If you don't wake up, if you don't lead us, everyone might die. We can't do this without you Daylen, and I can't spend another minute in this place. The only reason I came here, was to make it easy for my family in Lothering, and because I knew I wouldn't be here alone, that you would help me. Please help me now Daylen, you're my only hope!"

Daylen stood up and walked to another side of the room, taking his book with him.

* * *

Marian had been packing her bag, filling it with the supplies her allies expected. She'd go with some of the other local Lothering rebel supporters, meet up with Aveline and her husband, and assist them in taking the circle out of imperial hands. They were the vital part of the circle tower revolt, the outside attackers, the scouts. Marian put on her long sleeved red shirt and began putting the armour on the rest of her clothes, the clawed gauntlets were like the Talons of a bird, and the pads were big enough to fit shield generators she'd stolen from the supply speeders.

"Blessed are the peacekeepers, champions of the just," she spent one part of the night praying.

After she prayed, the original prayer of the true chant of light, she strapped two daggers to her back. Then she picked up her bow, put it around her shoulders and strapped the arrows quivers to her waist armour. On her way out however, the small light in the dining room activated.

"You're really going?"

Marian turned to her mother, who sat on the chair with her arms crossed. The expression she had was similar to how she'd look at Bethany whenever she went out, or when she'd spotted Carver talking to the troopers. She stood up and walked over to her daughter, who turned away.

"I don't have time for this mother, I need to meet the others," Marian said.

"You're going to go aren't you, to join the resistance, I know your cousin is planning something in the circle, I got that much from the letters Bethany sent, you can't go Marian," Leandra explained.

"You can't stop me," Marian retorted.

"I forbid you to go."

"I am not a child!"

"YOU'RE MY CHILD!" Leandra screamed.

Marian turned to her mother, trying to hush her. But then she saw the tears flowing down her face.

"They took your father, they took Bethany, and Carver, you're all I have left," she said.

Trying to fight back her own tears, Marian took Leandra into her arms and hugged her. They pushed their foreheads together, in much the same way Bethany had to Daylen. It was something they did whenever any member of their family was sad, it was a habit that went back as far as Leandra's father and uncle.

"Do you remember that big speech father gave us, when Carver said when he grew up he wanted to be a storm trooper?" Marian asked.

"Yes, I told you and your sister that, that was the reason I fell in love with your father," Leandra said.

"Yes, Carver said it would be fun to shoot rebels, 'fun to shoot rebels' father said. He said 'people need to know there is a better way, our people need to know that there is someone out there who still believes strongly enough to fight for them, to protect them, to die for them even, that's the measure of a true hero,'" Marian explained.

"You, Bethany, Daylen, everyone in the resistance might die, I don't want heroes, I want my children!"

"I know that, but this, this isn't even something I want to do. I don't want to kill, I don't want to die, I want to protect my country's freedom, my family's freedom. We have lived happily, but also fearfully, I don't want my children to live in fear. I understand you and father couldn't fight, but we can, and we will, because I still believe in our people strongly enough to die for them if need be!"

Leandra wiped the tears from her eyes, both frustrated with her oldest daughter, and proud of her. She hugged her daughter one last time, and as Marian made her way out, reached into one of the drawers. She pulled out a small toy, a model of a knight that the children often argued over whom played with. It was a reminder for Leandra of the good times, but it made her cry even more, not for times lost but for what her children had become. Her eldest daughter, a rebel and a fighter, her youngest daughter, a brilliant and kind young woman, and her son, a man whom followed his beliefs as his father did. Even though some of their paths collided, Leandra was proud of them all.

'You still haven't thought of one thing Marian, what happens when you meet your brother?'

* * *

Jowan had known Daylen for most of his life. He knew him as a rival, a friend, and even thought of him as a brother. Their friendship made them both better, in a way. Jowan still dabbled in blood magic, but when Lord Kaius voiced his approval of Jowan breaking the taboo, he stopped. He had seen older apprentices change until they were unrecognisable, and it was because of the Sith teachings. Though Jowan often wondered, what if? Most of the time he imagined living away from the empire, living a simple life as a farmer with Lily, that was his dream. Other times he would think of the possibilities of Daylen's future.

Daylen was wise for his age, and had a better control of his magic than most mages. He was not just a prodigy, but a futurist, whose ideas on study and sense of originality was different from other mages. Even Surana was weighed down by traditions, both from the chant and her elven culture. Daylen however was not, and many believed that he would become one of the youngest first enchanters to have ever lived, much more deserving of the title than Uldred. Then there was the other possibility, an apprentice of the Sith. He could have been an acolyte, a shadow guard, or an agent, but he would have excelled best as an apprentice to a Darth.

Jowan had no doubt that Daylen would have grasped the teachings of the force, and would have mastered it. He also didn't doubt that Daylen would have achieved the rank of Darth through his own merits, and not simple assassination of his master. Then came the fantasy, more like a vision that Jowan saw in his dreams, of Daylen becoming the governor of Thedas, of him reforming the way the empire occupied and uplifted worlds. Then reality hit, and Jowan knew, his friend didn't want to rule, he didn't even want to lead. Most of the credit for the plan, Daylen would probably give to Greigor, or the resistance leader.

Another thing Jowan knew about his friend, as he watched him, was how he grieved. He got depressed at times, the pressure did get to him. Most had expectations of Daylen, and Jowan knew he got weighed down by those expectations. But another thing he knew, was that his friend would come back from this, more determined than ever to see the imperial flag fall. So he decided to say nothing, and simply give his friend time.

* * *

Kaius looked at Kinloch hold, from the top of Fort Drakon. He was tired, but Kieli sustained herself with the dark side. She was revelling in her power, and her new title. Even though Cailan insisted on a celebration tomorrow, Kieli did her own celebrating. She went to the pearl and let out her frustrations on the underpaid whores. Kaius could feel the passion, then the suffering, and the joy Kieli felt. He shook his head however in disapproval, she already thought she was unstoppable, and he hadn't even taught her anything.

"She fails to grasp the first lesson I taught her," Kaius muttered to himself.

True immortality was impossible, even though Darth Plagueis was searching for it. Kaius knew and accepted, that one day he would die. He hoped it would be because someone was better than him, but he knew the reality of dying of old age. But even death was not the true end, there was the force.

'Perhaps all those worthy of being my apprentice are gone, or perhaps there is still hope,' Kaius thought.

Ever since Surana's death, Kinloch hold had become like a bright, shining star to Kaius. So bright, that he couldn't sense anything from it. There was a common saying in the galaxy, it was the equivalent of 'it can't get any worse'. The empire was so superstitious of these words, that they made it taboo to say them, as bad things certainly happened. Kaius grinned however.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he said them anyway.

* * *

Daylen had both his hands raised, practicing making constructs. All he had managed so far was a simple wire. It was pathetic to him, but to Wynn, it was just a reflection of how stubborn he was. She walked over to him with poultices, his mana had likely recharged, but he still required some treatment of his scar.

"Can you see out of your left eye?" she asked him.

He shook his head, looking away from Wynn.

"There may not be any damage to the actual eye, let me have a look," she said.

She grabbed his chin, not giving him a chance to turn away, or a choice in the matter. Wynn looked at the scar, it was less vicious than it had been after Kieli cut him. Wynn suspected at least why it had been so vicious at the time.

"Kieli has lost herself to the dark side, she may soon begin to suffer degradation, if you're lucky she'll be an old hag like me," Wynn chuckled, although it drew nothing from Daylen.

She dabbed a cloth in the remedy and lightly rubbed it against Daylen's scar. Then she covered Daylen's right eye, and waved her finger in front of the left. Either he wasn't trying to see, or he couldn't.

"Just be sure you're ready to do your part tomorrow, it's your plan after all," she said, standing up.

She stopped however and looked down at Daylen.

"What Nelia did, it intrigued Kaius, and I felt it, my connection to the force, my potential with it was determined to be extremely low, and I felt it, for a small moment before her death she achieved complete oneness with the force, now she is one with the force. Death isn't the end Daylen, nor is this," Wynn explained before she turned to walk away.

"Wynn," Daylen said.

She turned to her, hopeful that she had done something to get through to him.

"You know what I felt when Nelia died?" he asked. "Nothing, I felt nothing, oh don't get me wrong, I was sad, I was furious. But anything deeper than that, like some mystical feeling, like her soul passing through me and moving to a higher plane of existence?"

He lowered his head, squeezing his hands into fists, they were shaking as he grit his teeth together.

"I felt nothing like that, this force, whilst real, whilst tangible, is nothing more than a source of energy that can be manipulated. It plays no role in the world, it doesn't control our destinies and it doesn't have some grand plan. And when things happen, good and bad, it's because people have made choices, nothing more, no mystical force or feelings spurring them on."

She saw the tears in his eyes this time, but they at least had more life in them than they had before.

"Thedas has spent the past thousands of years, hell beyond that even, believing in a higher power, in a god or a grand plan for everyone and time and time, and time and time again, it has let them down. For centuries the chant altered its canticles to suit a political end, for centuries the Dalish searched for answers, even when it was scientifically proven that their gods were just fictions made so that they could feel all powerful, even their immortality was an exaggeration. Even the perfect Qunari were shown that their wise man Koslun admitted that he hadn't attained true wisdom yet, that pages from his tome were ripped out for convenience sake."

"Thedas wasted its time with all those beliefs, and I am not going to waste one more minute of my life, not one minute believing in anything less than the nature of people!"

He was panting, his heart thumping so hard, he thought he was actually going to get up and hit something. The feeling made him sick to his stomach, and he looked away from Wynn.

"Are you done?" Wynn asked. "Because wasting your time believing in the force and the maker, is a better alternative to wasting your time feeling sorry for yourself."

"JUST GO AWAY!" Daylen yelled.

He hugged his knees tightly and buried his face in them. Wynn shook her head, one part in pity, the other out of disapproval. Never the less, she chose to give Daylen whatever time he needed.

* * *

In Kirkwall, Merrill was crying, Sebastian was drinking, Fenris was sitting, and Leliana was praying. Their lives had each taken on such different turns. Sebastian poured himself drinks, finding only comfort in that. But then he thought of what tomorrow would bring. He would get paid for tomorrow, but the gravity of the plan struck him. If they succeeded, they would start a fire that would rage across Thedas. This would be the exiled prince's revenge, for the ashes of Starkhaven.

Fenris sat in his room, simply waiting and watching his chronometer. He waited for the day he would begin his own fight against the empire, he waited for the day he would stop running. In Tevinter he was a slave, a competitor for his family's freedom. Then he was an experiment, being granted the lyrium that made every night hell, and the training of a dark Jedi. He was to be the perfect, loyal bodyguard to his master, a Sith acolyte. But then he was lost, found by rebels and treated with kindness for the first time since his family. And like the loyal slave he was, when his master found him and commanded him to kill them, he did. Then he ran, and had been running from the past ever since. Placing his shotgun by his bag, Fenris looked at the object poking out of it, a long handled light sabre, his light sabre.

Merrill wept over her torture, over the false gods she still believed in, over the former friend turned enemy, and the massacre of her clan. She looked at her reflection in the ceiling, at the marks on her face, the marks of a slave. The Sith had shown her people that what they believed was false, yet the keeper kept seeking out lost knowledge. Knowledge older than her own people. Initially she thought it was a fairy tale, but she followed anyway, because she didn't doubt her keeper, she loved her. Merathari had never proven her confidence wrong before, she had always done right by them. Even when they abandoned the tainted Theron and Tamlen, she still followed, she still believed. Then their hard work paid off, and they finally found what they were looking for. Only for the keeper to give it to the humans, and to bring death to their people. She stopped weeping when Theron, no, Azab, entered her cell, instead she looked to him, the same way she would look at the Keeper.

Leliana prayed, as she always did, never doubting that the maker, and the force, was with her. When she was young, she fell into the hands of the bard Marjolaine. She spent years grooming Leliana, making her believe they were in genuine love with one another. But then she exposed Orlesian rebels, and left Leliana to the mercy of imperial intelligence. When she escaped, Leliana was lost and afraid, and sought shelter in one of the hidden chantries. There, she was found by Justinia, whom showed her that peace could be found in the maker's embrace. Leliana began praying, and in that she found peace, through that stillness, she also heard the maker.

But peace also had to be fought for. Leliana became an agent of the resistance, infiltrating and sabotaging imperial operations when she could. In her dreams, she experienced a vision, of someone ascending to the heavens and the imperial flag burning. She recognised the area the flag burned in, it was Ferelden, her old home. Night after night she experienced visions of Ferelden, of a man whose body was obscured by darkness, yet in his heart burnt an unquenchable flame. It was those visions that made Leliana decide, that she had to go to Ferelden. Her destiny awaited in that country, but she first had to get one artefact from the elves, something that would be vital to Thedas's freedom.

* * *

Nearly everyone in the tower was asleep, or at least resting for the day ahead of them. Daylen however was still awake, even his guards had fallen asleep. He looked over at them, he hadn't even let them in on his plan and they were asleep, taking everything easy. Daylen leant against the book case again, again trying to conjure a construct like a blade. He managed more solid objects, like a cube, but he was still a ways off. Resting his arms on his knees, Daylen shook his head and lowered it. Everything just felt so pointless to him.

 **"Don't be like that Daylen."**

Daylen widened his eyes, he knew he had to be going insane if he heard her voice.

 **"Come on Daylen, you're the strongest person I know."**

He looked up and gasped at what he saw. Standing before him, was the ghostly image of Nelia. She was in her circle robes, beautiful, but her form had a blue tone to it, and Daylen could see slightly through her. She had her hands behind her back, grinning as she leant forward and looked down at Daylen.

 **"Oh look at you, brooding actually suits you, but now isn't the time Day, they need you,"** she said.

Daylen mouth hung open, he reached out to touch Nelia, but she was too far.

 **"You must be very confused, I could say I'm one with the force now, but you don't really go for that kind of thing. So how's about this, I'm that part of your mind, telling you to get up, to do what you had set out to do,"** she rubbed the back of her head, grinning sheepishly. **"Seriously Daylen, I know you're hurting, and it's okay to be upset, to mourn, to be depressed, to be angry, all of these feelings are natural. The world, the universe, its bigger than you can imagine, its filled with feelings and people that resonate with one another. You're one of those people Daylen, whether you realise it or not, you bond with so many people, even outside of this tower, what you're doing is resonating with so many people."**

She smiled as Daylen stood up. He shook his head.

"The force didn't care what happened to us before Nelia died, it wouldn't start caring now," he said. "Our destinies, are ours to control, we'll fight for each other, not god and not the force!"

As Daylen walked away, the ghost of Nelia smiled.

 **"That's more like it, go get em, Day!"**

Daylen returned to the boy's barracks and raised his eyebrows. Most of the mages there were waiting for him, smiling. Niall and Anders grinned, both sitting on unconscious and gagged mages. Jowan walked past some of the mages and smiled at Daylen.

"Did you get enough time?" he asked.

Daylen nodded his head, and he and Jowan clapped their hands against one another's shoulder. Tomorrow, they, and the rest of their country, would begin fighting for their freedom.

Next Episode 6: Day of rebellion

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, I got two Star Wars references in this chapter :), plus some secrets :)

Next time, the rebellion finally begins.


	6. Episode 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Dragon Age

Here it is, the rebellion finally begins in this chapter, sorry for the wait :)

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 6: Day of rebellion

 **Some people may say, that I have been planning this since the day I arrived at the tower. They're incorrect though, I didn't seriously start considering rebellion until I was thirteen years old. Uldred continually abused my teacher Irving, a man who was like a father to me. Eventually, a Sith Lord came and started combing the tower for an apprentice. Uldred wanted to prove he was Sith lord material, so he had Irving made tranquil, he collaborated with some of the templars...sorry, Knight-troopers, who didn't like Irving. He killed only one bird with one stone, he was rid of the man he hated more than anything in the world, but he was still no closer to being considered for an apprenticeship. After that, I started seriously thinking about the Sith empire, and our planet Thedas. I began thinking, and searching, for a salvation that would save everyone.**

Across the sea, two ships in Kirkwall had begun to set sail, one captained by Isabela, queen of the Eastern seas, and the other by Athenris, best smuggler in Kirkwall. But in Kinloch Hold, the first victory of the rebellion would be achieved. Daylen started the day as he normally did, slightly more tired than he usually was, but he was usually an early riser anyway. He walked with the other mages in his group, girls, boys, men and women, elders whom he knew agreed with his plans. Those students close to Uldred, or whom had shown conformity to the empire, would be the last to be served their meals today.

As Daylen was served his food, he looked across to the Knight-troopers. Greigor wasn't present, acting in his stead was Cullen. The young man certainly had the support of his peers, to keep up appearances, he had some of the men not dress into armour, he was one of them. There was no clichéd nod, Daylen made the plan clear in countless meetings with the others. He briefly made eye contact with the Twi'lek server, the same one he had for years now, the same one he often interacted with at late nights. The same one, he learned hated the empire, and was just waiting for a chance to strike back at them.

The empire, ripped apart every bit of folklore people in Thedas had, from the old gods, to the Evanuris, they uncovered so many grand secrets the planet had been hiding. But there were so many things they didn't understand either. One such thing was a herb that grew in Ferelden, Elfroot. It was one of the important ingredients in the synthesis of poultices. At its core, the plant had a nutrient that could numb the body, a painkiller. This was primarily present in the leaves, which would often be ground and crushed when making poultices. When applied to other ingredients, the numbing effects of the leaves would be diluted.

First step of the plan began when all the non-combatants, and those they wouldn't be able to convince, lined up for their food. The Twi'lek servers subtly put the cut up leaves into the broth for the stews. Both mages and Knight-Troopers gobbled up their food as Daylen and his group ate. Whilst Daylen's group was charged for the mission ahead of them, the others were drained. With the application of an imperial sleep drug that Anders managed to smuggle in (through his arse) the broth the opposition ate was effectively a sleeping agent. Daylen had some of the others act asleep as well, as the regular Storm Troopers and imperial security agents checked the unconscious tables.

That was when the clichéd nods started. The guards in the room scattered between each table of templars and mages, each table they checked had an agent of Daylen's acting asleep. When they approached that agent, they were surprised when they discovered they weren't really asleep. Cullen whipped around, and stabbed one of the Storm troopers through the neck, as the men opposite him dragged and stabbed the other two troopers down. The other storm troopers fell to either life draining magic from the mages, or stabbings from makeshift knives from the knight-troopers.

Ordinarily the plan wouldn't have worked, because there would be imperial sympathisers, or people who felt a need to interfere within the ranks. Those confused by what was going on, were able to figure out quickly what was happening. Others took a little convincing, but they were the ones that could be convinced. Petra, Niall, Jowan, Bethany, Kinnon and Finn all focused on speaking with some of the confused mages, telling them about what Daylen was starting, whilst some of Cullen's templars were doing the same amongst their order. Whilst they spoke to them, and convinced them of the success of the plan, Daylen made his way to the children. They had immediately been drawn to Wynn, but she wasn't the person Daylen focused on.

Conner Guerin was the son of a nobleman, a boy who became very close to turning into an abomination. But whilst his Sith teachers encouraged his darkness, Daylen taught him to control it. He became, his apprentice in a way. Crouching by the boy, Daylen looked him in the eyes.

"You know what you need to do right Conner?" Daylen asked him.

"Face your fears, don't be afraid," the ginger haired boy said.

Daylen smiled, bumping his fist against Conner's. Then he looked Wynn in the eye, and saw the disapproval in them.

"Are you going to try and stop me?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Not going to tell me how I'm going to fail, how I'm starting a war that can't be won?"

"If you're asking me to, then you don't need me to, you've obviously thought about this. Did you think so little of me, that I wouldn't support you?" Wynn asked.

"Actually, I have a lot of respect for you Wynn," Daylen said.

"Even though I've done nothing to earn your respect?"

"Sometimes, the problem with respect is it having to be earned, I want you to protect the kids and the tranquil, and later on, if you're willing, help Finn with the wounded, because there will be wounded later," Daylen explained.

"You're not just going to take the tower are you?" Wynn asked.

"You may disapprove, but I know what I need to do, to save as many of my people as I can."

There it was, the determination in his red eyes, that Wynn had seen since he first arrived.

* * *

 **One of my earliest memories of my grandfather, was him sitting with me in the courtyard, talking about the meaning of heroism and salvation. As a child, I asked him something, why couldn't everyone live? He told me that was impossible, because it means that there would need to be a salvation that benefits everyone, that it would even be possible to save everyone. He told me, a mere child at the time, that is was only possible to save a select number of people. Even when the Sith Lord killed him, after the hatred rushed through, I kept thinking about a way to save everyone. That's where the determination came from, my will to find a way.**

Greigor gripped the object in his pocket, the object that Daylen had slipped him when they passed one another. As one of the 'senior officers' of the tower, Greigor had been called into a breakfast meeting with the other imperial officers. The Storm trooper commander was there, clad in his armour and an orange shoulder guard that marked him as such. His helmet rested on the table, and the man poured imported Bantha milk into his glass, or blue milk as most in Thedas called it. Whilst he and the other, grey and black clad officers ate toast and pork, Greigor waited for his moment.

"Moff Price has managed to convince King Cailan of the necessity of a massive search for apostates. Apparently there is some kind of witch in the wilds, Cailan will announce the plan for all mages, even the ones granted freedom by him, to be taken here," one of the officers explained.

"Even the Dalish?" Greigor asked.

"The Dalish have been tolerated for too long, I say we wipe them out," said the commander.

"We've already exposed their filthy religious lies, we might as well destroy them completely," another officer agreed.

"What about the Bannorn?"

"They'll fall into line soon enough, reports have come in from Howe's factories in Highever and Amaranthine, respectively they have completed work on gunships and walkers we can use, and should be able to begin mass production by the end of the week," explained the lead officer.

"I'm sensing a but here," said one of the commanders.

"Moff Price wishes to speed up production, which means eliminating the Qunari rebels, once they're gone, he wants the military to focus more on lyrium extraction and mage recovery. Apparently he has some sort of big project planned, which is why he's convinced the major rulers of Thedas whom have sided with us, to endorse his new plan and take over security of their nations with their own forces," the officer explained.

"So that's why he's sped up the integration of the primitives, no offence Greigor," the commander's comment drew a laugh from the other officers, "Into a militia with substandard equipment. Congratulations Greigor, soon your home planet will be fully integrated with the empire."

"Integrated with, or enslaved, and what does Moff Price intend to do with the lyrium and mages?" Greigor asked.

"I barely know, or even care," the officer said.

"We'll be solving your mage problem soon, no more apprenticeships, no more imprisonment, no more wasting resources like food and education on weapons that are now redundant, they'll be just sent off planet," the commander explained.

"I didn't join the templars to eliminate the problem of mages. I became a templar, because I truly believed that, if guided and protected, mages could serve mankind, and that the templars and circles were a necessary evil, to protect and raise those people into the mages they could be," Greigor explained.

He looked at the holographic map of Thedas, his home. He imagined how beautiful it would look from those ships in space, and just how far it could have gone on its own. In his eyes, the empire wrongfully took the place of the maker, forcing it to change at an unnatural pace. Thedas would have changed, it would have become a better world, Greigor believed this, because systems like the circle existed, and would have evolved over time, at their own pace.

"They are not slaves, they are the Maker's children, they have their place in the world, but it is not as your...weapons," Greigor said.

"Careful Greigor, take that disrespectful tone further and we will be forced to restrain you Knight-Commander!"

"There's one thing you forgot though," Greigor removed the item Daylen made from his pocket.

With a hiss, a fiery white blade ignited from the cylinder shaped device. The imperial officers looked at the unstable light sabre blade in shock. It had been created from spare parts Daylen picked up over the years, the more essential parts Daylen had Lily or Anders smuggle in. Because of its unstable, lyrium power source, Daylen built in two more vents, giving it a cross bladed appearance. Greigor held the sabre up, an executioner's salute.

"We were swordsman before the empire gave us blasters," Greigor declared.

The officers barely had time to drew their blasters. Though some succeeded, they were quickly cut down, with only one blaster going off into the roof. The two guards entered, and looked at Greigor in shock. He quickly ran at the troopers, cutting off one's hands with the sabre. One fired a blaster shot however, hitting Greigor in the chest. Quickly fighting through the pain, he beheaded the armless trooper, and stabbed the one who shot him.

"The time for redemption is near," Greigor said.

He deactivated the sabre, nursing his side as he began making his way to the cafeteria.

* * *

 **I heard that light sabres were powered by crystals. So I began thinking, what if lyrium was a similar kind of crystal, but more powerful. First time I made a light sabre, I nearly lost my hands. That's why I wear the gloves most of the time, they hide the burns. The sabre pop was like a firework going off on the surface of my hands, Wynn healed them, gave me a lecture, and the Knight-troopers assumed I had an accident with my own magic. That first attempt, cracked the lyrium, and taught me that I needed to build additional vents. The cross guard isn't just for show.**

Greigor cut down two patrolling troopers on his way to the cafeteria. He locked blades with another trooper, one wielding an electric club. Pushing the man against the wall, he pushed his sword forward, until the blades on his cross guard burnt the trooper's shoulder. Then he beheaded the man, just as the cafeteria doors opened.

"Had we not acted, there would still be no more apprentices, and no more privileges offered to mages. The empire now sees you all as weapons, materials to be taken and used for whatever evil purpose they seek. For ages, the chantry has spoken of the just standing against the wicked, and magic existing to serve man. This, this is what we are here for, both templars and mages, to fight against the cruelty of the empire," the Knight-commander explained.

The hesitation in most of the mages was gone, and if ever the templars had their doubts, their commander had alleviated them. Seeing him stand against the empire was enough. That was why Daylen gave him the sword, and didn't keep it for himself. The unstable blade served a purpose, it looked like the fiery sword of the templar order. In the eyes of all those who looked at him, Greigor was the very embodiment of the ideal of the templars.

 _"Must take back groin floors, we must,"_ Daylen said to the Twi'lek.

"How about I just speak basic?" he asked.

"That would probably be easier," Daylen muttered, causing the other servants to nod their heads, and his friends to chuckle.

Daylen split the group, both would take the additional stairways to the other floors. Following the Twi'leks, the mages and Knight-templars made their way through each imperial occupied room. Bethany pushed two troopers against the wall, as Cullen sliced the throat of the officer. The Twi'lek with them then began giving the daily reports and readings they often gave across the radio, keeping up the appearance that nothing was wrong at the tower. Greigor stabbed a trooper through the chest, and Daylen froze the joints of a security droid.

"Did you keep all those security spikes?" Daylen asked Anders.

"Not in my arse thankfully," replied the blonde mage. "You'd think this would be harder, but the console's actually telling me how many spikes it needs, it even offers an overload console option."

"We don't need to overload any consoles, we just need to find out which rooms have troopers and droids in them," Daylen explained.

"Let's see, downloading map, downloading security feed, wait a minute, at the squad barracks, the troopers are pretty much all gathered around the console," Anders explained.

"Why would they do that?" Daylen asked.

"Well things can be played through these consoles Daylen, a thing called live feeds," Anders grinned.

"What would they be watching?"

* * *

Stormtrooper Barracks

"Oo-la-wang choo koo-chee-pa-tie tan-ga ris-pa ta ya lee oh, Yo AAAAAH, yal-lie!"

Music echoed through the barracks and the troopers bopped their heads along to it.

"As much as I like the music, and listening to them sing, when is the Twi'lek on?" one of them asked.

"Wait for it, just about now, look at that gentlemen."

"WOO! Perfection, look at her move."

"I'd like to see what moves she can do off of the dance floor!"

"Oh, rewind, her boob slipped out just then."

Suddenly, the screen they were watching turned to static, and the console exploded, knocking them back, and burning those who had been closest to it. The security door then opened and Petra and Jowan's group came in.

"Why on Earth would all those men be standing around one computer?" Jowan asked.

"The reason all men look at their computers," Petra remarked, and the women nodded as the men hesitantly cast their eyes to the ground.

"Very funny," Jowan muttered.

Jowan checked his chronometer, it was round about the time for the groups to meet in the library. Petra however stopped Jowan, pointing to the lockers and uniforms. Within a few minutes, the group gathered at the library.

"Where are Kinnon and Niall?" Bethany asked.

"Their part of the plan is going to take longer than ours," Daylen said, as he and Anders dropped a crate onto the floor.

"Group leaders, take those data pads, they'll show you where the imperial troop movements are at their heaviest. Cullen and Bethany have shut down communication, so we need to do this smart and in synch, Niall and Kinnon should be back right about..."Daylen looked at his chronometer and raised his hand. "Now!"

The blast door opened, and Niall and Kinnon's group emerged. With seven Sith war droids, partially repaired, marching behind them like crabs.

"First we're going to take the armoury, the security forces are at their thickest there. The droids go in as the first wave, then we pick off whoever is left guarding the armoury, Anders stays out of the fighting, he has the most important role to retake the armoury," Daylen explained.

His allies, his army, nodded in response to his plan, most understanding their role. Those who had a complete understanding of their specific roles, moved in front with Daylen, Greigor and Cullen. Niall poked his head around the corner, looking towards the heavily guarded armoury, other Sith war droids, and troopers with repeating blasters. The young man threw his hand forward, the command for the war droids to attack. They marched towards the imperials, unleashing a barrage of repeated fire from their blasters. Red beams slammed into the droids and troopers, but the security forces managed to shoot down the ill repaired droids.

"Now, pick them off," Daylen commanded.

He moved with the first line, throwing fire with the other mages, in conjunction with the pistol fire from the templars. But the troopers fired back, and a blaster bolt hit the man right next to Daylen, Kinnon.

"Kinnon, no," Daylen gasped, holding him as he fell.

There were no last words, just a look of permanent shock, and a hole through his heart. Greigor deflected a blast before it could hit Daylen, and the mages electrocuted or burned the remaining troopers.

"Stand up Amell, do not appear weak, more will die if you do," Greigor whispered to Daylen.

Once the armoury was secured, the rebels moved to the secondary library. There, they had gathered the dead, both on their side and on the imperial side. Twenty imperials were dead, along with six of Daylen's friends, both templars and mages. He crossed Kinnon's arms and rubbed his head, letting out a long and drawn out sigh. Then he stood, and looked to the other rebels. They had one more thing to do, and it depended on whether or not Marian's group had succeeded. But still, Daylen looked at the bodies.

 **It wasn't that I didn't think anyone would die. I wasn't naive enough to believe that I could pull this off without anyone dying. Nor did I wish for even my enemy to die, nor did I wish for them to kill us. I knew peace wasn't an option, not without a great sacrifice. Freedom itself would come at a heavy price, and I know, that there is a possibility, that years from now, when we are free of the empire, we could dive back into the savagery of the old wars. I'm putting our future on an uncertain plan. Yet still, I have to believe that it can succeed, and I have to move forward, rejecting the inevitability of death. It wasn't that I didn't think anyone would die, it's that I didn't want anyone to die.**

* * *

She didn't want to kill those men, not really. Deep down inside, Marian knew they were just ordinary men, whom were only there because they had been ordered to. Underneath the helmets of the troopers were fathers, sons, husbands, wives, daughters and siblings. But they were in the way of her saving her family, they were in the way of her country, her world's independence. So Marian thought, not with a charge, but like her cousin, smartly. Sneaking was easy, Marian and her Lothering rebels didn't wear armour, they were light footed and silent.

Attaching the charges was easy, matching the timing was the hard part. They didn't have access to remote detonators like the empire did, not yet. So, they had to rely on two people being able to make the perfect low tech explosive. One was a dwarf, a surface dwarf who had a love for explosions bordering on the psychotic. He composed a formula to create a big bang, but it at counted on the chemical reaction of the formulas mixing together. The device that would mix the chemicals together, was the work of a dwarven runaway, a cute and brilliant girl called Dagna, who Marian just loved right now. It operated on a mechanical timer, operated with gears and attached to a chronometer.

They had been planting the devices across the perimeter base for an hour now. A Knight-trooper told Marian where all of the speeders were kept, and where the troopers had their breakfasts, where the best place to pee was, where the armoury was, and when deliveries would come through. He did all this, not out of the kindness of his heart, but for cookies of all things. Despite how ridiculous her informant had been, it enabled Marian to add to Daylen's plan, and carry out the ideal way to capture. The owner of the nearby inn was also eager to get the imps out of his life. He served the officers his strongest stuff, and even gave them drink for free. They had been so merry, that he'd been able to tie them up in the morning.

Some of the troopers took advantage of their superior's absence and stayed in the barracks, watching some kind of performance by a band that was quite popular in the galaxy. As Marian passed the barracks, she heard only the wolf whistles of the men, and rants about how sexy a Twi'lek dancer was. She took a brief moment to take a peak over their shoulders with her spy glass, before leaving her bag, and the device she carried inside the barracks. Then she returned to the hill top, where her group and a sniper rifle waited.

"Are you sure you can do this Hawke?" Aveline asked.

"Oh ye of little faith, I'm a hunter remember," Marian grinned.

She looked through the scope, she didn't have as much practice with a rifle as she did with a bow. But if she was going to shoot the watcher tower guards, she would need the range of a rifle. There were only two rifles, so it meant her, and a man called Nathaniel had to shoot them. Aveline acted as Marian's spotter, whilst Nathaniel had a young man called Aedan as his spotter. Marian took the right, and Nathaniel took the left. They accounted for distance, wind speed and the total range of their weapons, just like they did with bows.

"Ready, three, two, one, fire!" Aveline and Aedan said together.

And together, Nathaniel and Marian shot the watchers on the towers. Both died together, and their deaths went unnoticed by the troopers on the ground. There were more troopers on the ground, by the gates than there was across the lake. Marian checked her chronometer, only seconds on the clock were left. She targeted the troopers by the gate, and waited.

"Five, four, three, two, one!"

Explosions destroyed the thrusters on the speeders and bikes, burnt through the legs of the parked walker, sending it careening to the ground. The inside of the barracks was consumed by fire, troopers half dressed ran out of the building, batting the fire on their arms. Nathaniel and Marian shot the gate guards as the explosives kept going off, whilst Aveline and the others shot the surviving troopers with bows, crossbows and stolen blasters. Marian fired shot after shot from the rifle, revelling in the power it gave her. By the time the ammo canister was empty, all of the gate guards were dead.

"That was exciting," the Knight-templar with the sweet tooth said.

He gave Marian, Aveline and a few others the boat and they took it to the tower. From behind the main gate, they heard the sound of blaster fire, the roars of spewing flames, crackling electricity, and of all things, the whirl of a light sabre. When Marian heard that, she thought the worst, and began to tamper with the lock. She had practiced on imperial electronic locks often, practiced until she had mastered at least the basics of slicing. It was all just lock picking to her, just a different type of lock. Aveline kept her blaster and sword ready, as the others drew out their weapons. The sounds of the fighting behind the gate died down, and Marian gasped. She drew her pistol and dagger, joining Aveline's side. They waited, waited, for any sign of the victor, for the voices from the trooper's helmet speakers, for the cries of the dying.

The door to the tower opened, and the rebels raised their weapons. Both rebel groups were surprised to meet one another. Daylen lowered the blaster he was holding, looking at the five men and women, one of whom looked like a better fighter than the rest. Although there was a fire in the younger woman's eyes, blue eyes. She looked just like his mother's cousin Leandra, the resemblance was too uncanny for it to be coincidental. Daylen relaxed his arms and looked over his shoulder.

"Bethany, come over here," he said.

Marian relaxed too, as soon as she heard her sister's name. When she saw her sister walk to the older boy's side, her heart softened and she smiled. Gradually, more mages began to walk to the side of the Knight-Templars. Marian and Bethany were the first to run to one another, but then Marian discovered why her group members volunteered to help her. Siblings reunited, parents held their children again for the first time in years, even old friends from childhood said hello to one another, face to face, for the first time in years. Bethany held her sister tightly, checking her shorter hair, it was so much like their mother's, yet still held that tomboyish style. She took a hold of Marian's hand and pulled her over to Daylen.

"This is him Marian, this is him," she said.

Daylen and Marian looked one another in the eyes again, blue met red. She'd always heard that before his magic awakened, he had the eyes of a true Amell. But even with the red eyes, she could tell he was her cousin. It was just a feeling she had, and she always trusted her instincts. Daylen raised his hands in surprise as Marian threw her arms around him, hugging him, like any family member would. Bethany joined them, and the sisters and their cousins smiled, finally feeling at peace. It was just one warm moment, before the chaos started again.

 **The first, and easiest step of my plan had succeeded. Now all I had to do was succeed in convincing two groups of allies to join us. It was going to take more than Ferelden and Kirkwall rebels, more than just humans, dwarves and elves, we needed unimaginable allies, allies I had learnt from former Dalish elves, could be found in the wilds.**

Episode 7: Trees, Werewolves...and an aerial chase sequence, oh my

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, and some of the jokes, but it wasn't all smiles and hugs this chapter. Things will go right for the rebellion and wrong for the rebellion, next time we got back to Alistair and Leliana, whilst Daylen starts looking for allies.


	7. Episode 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 7: Allies found

Kaius had been watching his apprentice since Cailan's party had begun. She was clad in the traditional Dark Jedi robe. But her face and hair seemed so different, and the darkside corruption made her look like a completely different woman. Her eyes were yellow, and she had straightened her hair, makeup had been applied to her face. Whilst before, she had a modest beauty, she revelled in how tight her robe was against her chest, and there was a dark beauty to her that attracted many of the young men at court. She mingled, laughing at jokes and looking like she was having a good time. But she had lost herself to the darkside, she looked down on everyone, and looked at certain men as if they belonged to her.

The Chagrian dark lord, didn't doubt that his apprentice would pick a lover, maybe even several, and break them that night. Her power was fuelled only by her passion, and she seemed to be making up for all her time praying in the tower, spending her days out on the streets. Guards were baffled by the murder of city elf women, the latest victim was a valuable and outspoken member of the Alienage council. Even the usually xenophobic Governor Price saw Shianni as a candidate for officer training. In Kaius's opinion, she was a valuable citizen because she didn't hesitate to criticise them, and would have made a good reformist if she joined the military.

Now though, the poor girl was just another body added to a case the guards would never solve. Kaius knew even without the force, all the victims were elves, red haired, attractive women. His apprentice was murdering those whom resembled Nelia. She was better suited to murdering those who couldn't fight back, Kaius had seen her spar with the elite guard, her actual technique was poor, its why Kaius had no plans of giving her a light sabre anytime soon.

"Is something wrong lord Kaius?" the man sitting next to Kaius asked.

King Cailan had been sitting at his throne, eagerly watching the nobles dance and drink. He was dressed in a yellow uniform with a red sash going down his shoulder.

"You see my apprentice there?" Kaius asked.

"Yes, a great beauty lord Kaius," Cailan said.

"I've seen better amongst your species, but it wasn't for her looks that I picked her, it wasn't even because she had killed her rival," Kaius explained.

"Then why did you pick her?" Cailan asked.

"Do you truly wish to know?"

"Of course my lord, the Jedi teachings have always fascinated me," Cailan said.

"Dark Jedi, we are dark Jedi, but that's another story entirely," Kaius lowered his head, looking over the food, ridiculous amounts of food he didn't even need to eat.

"I have no interest in an apprentice who cannot control their darkness. The one who would be my apprentice, must not seek power for the simplistic reason that they want more. My apprentice must strive for something, must seek knowledge and power, to achieve a dream that goes beyond the empire, and they must fight for that dream, even if it means standing against the empire, against me. I would call that person more than my apprentice, I would call them my friend!"

Cailan looked at Kaius in awe, finding something very adventurous and heroic about how Kaius viewed his apprentices and enemies. But for Kaius it was simply a different way to look at murder than his apprentice had. He had already killed everyone in the galaxy he hated, he would execute those who got in his way, but to kill a man by actually holding his sabre, that enemy had to have his respect.

"But wait, does this mean..."

"No Cailan, it doesn't mean I'm still looking for my apprentice, I've already found him!"

* * *

Daylen had left Greigor in charge of the others. Greigor would be securing the armouries and other equipment they would use. Marian would meet with the resistance, taking the speeders and walkers with them. Daylen however had something very different in mind, a role he would play, by going to the Brecillian Forest. His horse was tired and worn out from the journey, earning him a stroke across his back from Daylen. Leaving the black stallion behind, Daylen walked deeper and deeper into the forest.

This part of the plan was inspired by tales Daylen heard circulating amongst the elven mages. Many spoke of the Dalish clans, and one clan in particular. They spoke of a keeper named Zathrian, who was keeping his clan alive in the forest. Imperials went in, but never came out, because of the werewolves that stalked the forest. Yet, locals and other elves were able to navigate the forest without harassment, save for the areas where magical barriers had been erected. Daylen knew he needed more than just the resistance, the mages and the templars to fight, they needed more powerful magic, they needed rebels who were part of the land they were trying to protect.

The familiar echoing sounds of the Stormtrooper helmets filled Daylen's ears however. He stopped, raising his hands as the grey clad shadow troopers deactivated their cloaking devices. Scout troopers also came out, taking off their camouflage blankets. They had Daylen surrounded, and the mage looked at his surroundings, the subtle movement of the trees, the lack of birds or crickets. He wasn't afraid, but he was impatient, hoping the others would reveal themselves soon.

"That outfit, you're a mage of the circle, what are you doing here?" the commander demanded.

"Rebelling," Daylen said.

There was a snap of a trig in the distance, putting the troopers on alert. Daylen created a barrier around himself.

"What are you..." but the commander couldn't finish his sentence.

Suddenly, he was lifted off the ground, being held by a tree branch of all things. The troopers looked up at the tree, horrified as its roots tore themselves out of the ground, forming legs of some kind. The Sylvan revealed its face, and roared at the troopers. Blaster shoots slammed against its body, but it quickly swept its arm around, bashing some of the troopers aside. One of the Scout troopers primed a grenade, only for an explosive arrow to fly out of the woods, knocking him into two more troopers. The explosion threw two of the shadow troopers to the ground.

"They were right, they were right, this place is haunted," one of the troopers panicked, trying to make an escape.

A mass of brown fur suddenly slammed into the trooper, knocking him to the ground. The trooper screamed, as he bashed against the rocks. His killer, a half man, half wolf, a werewolf. More werewolves rushed out of the forest, ripping into the joints in the troopers, tearing arteries and slashing their throats with their claws. A head even bounced off of Daylen's barrier. One of the last remaining troopers looked up at the Sylvan, hitting its bark and branches with repeated blaster shots. Then the Sylvan bought its roots down on the trooper, his arms flailing, still firing his blaster, before a crunch sound silenced him.

"If you seek haven human mage, you will find none here," the apparent leader of the werewolves said, a brown furred wolf with a scar across his eye.

For a moment, Daylen touched his own scar before pulling down his barrier.

"It is not haven or passage that I seek, take me to the lady of the forest, or Zathrian, whoever will see me," Daylen said.

"Neither will see you," a voice spoke from the trees.

Green armoured elves walked out of the forest, two hunters, but the leader was a mage, that much Daylen could tell from her staff. Her armour was a modified version of the Raiments of the of the Dalish pariah, though coloured green and gold instead of white. The young woman had Dalish markings on her face and blonde hair, tied into several knots behind her.

"I am Lanaya, first of the clan, if you wish to speak with Zathrian, you must first convince me," the young woman said.

"And if you wish to even approach the lady of the forest, you must first go through me," the leader of the werewolves snarled.

"My name is Daylen Amell, I came from the circle tower, the recently liberated circle tower," Daylen said.

"Impossible, the empire would reclaim it or destroy it if that ever happened," Lanaya said.

"He lies, he is a spy!"

"Calm yourself Swiftrunner, what say you human?"

"The empire won't be reclaiming the tower any time soon, the Twi'leks who staffed the tower are familiar with imperial communication codes, they'll be able to keep them away for now. I came here for help in fighting the empire," Daylen explained.

"We are fighting the empire," Swiftrunner retorted, bringing his snarling face closer to Daylen's.

"You convinced the Twi'leks to help you?" Lanaya asked.

"I did, I just befriended them, not all of the imperial servants however were willing to fight, we had to imprison some, even kill others," Daylen lowered his head slightly.

"I can see there is conflict in you Daylen Amell, but not the conflict of a servant of the empire," Lanaya stuck her stuff into the ground and walked closer to the Daylen.

She took hold of his cheeks, looking at his eyes closely.

"Red eyes, the result of consorting with demons, tell me, what price did you pay for dabbling in blood magic?" she asked.

"I can no longer heal with magic," he said.

"And this scar, from a light sabre wasn't it?"

"Yes, someone I thought of as a friend...it turned out she was weaker than I thought she was. The Sith, the empire, they've corrupted nearly everything, if they aren't stopped, then it's only a matter of time before all of the hope and every last bit of freedom we have is stripped away from us," Daylen explained.

"I was once a servant of the empire, a slave for entertainment," Lanaya said as she let go of Daylen's face and stepped back, retaking her staff. "Zathrian killed them, he freed me, when he saw that everything he believed about our history was false, he revealed his darkest secrets, and putting aside his pride, he joined with the werewolves," she continued to explain.

"A lot of things have changed on this planet, leaders have done things they may never have done before, I never would have actually started a war, I would have inevitably ended up in the tower, but I'd like to think I wouldn't have become someone who would deliberately start a war, because that's what I'm doing, I've got no illusions that I'll be spreading chaos across the planet," Daylen explained.

"Then why stand against the empire?" Swiftrunner asked.

"For a chance, a chance for everyone else to be free of them," Daylen said.

"You'll lose," Lanaya said.

"Maybe, there's a good chance my plan won't work, but I do know one thing, the odds of it succeeding will be greater if you're with me!"

"Cammen, go to Elora and have a Halla ready for us at the temple, come with me Daylen Amell, for what it is worth, I believe you, but I am not the one you must convince!"

Daylen bowed his head in respect, and began to follow the werewolves and elves.

* * *

 **Imperial SD-Punishment**

Alistair took deep breaths as he moved through the corridors of the ship, with his 'prisoner'. People from Thedas had to be exceptionally talented, and have studied and practiced with fighters to pilot them.

'Figures now I would start to doubt my plan,' Alistair thought.

He continued guiding Leliana through the corridors, going past other troopers until they reached the hanger.

"Okay, keep calm, keep calm," Alistair muttered.

"I am calm," Leliana said.

"I'm talking to myself."

He walked her down a line, past several engineers and numerous Sith fighters.

"The S-12 Blackbolt, it's one of the fastest fighters," Leliana whispered.

Alistair nodded his head and took Leliana to the fighter, keeping an eye over his shoulder too. He was making sure no one was watching them. Once he was satisfied they were safe, he gave Leliana a boost into the fighter, praying she wouldn't leave him for dead. As Leliana began recalling the activation protocols, and running the ship through them, she considered it for a moment, leaving Alistair behind. She thought of her mission, its importance to the rebellion, what she had hidden in Kirkwall. Her mission demanded that she be dishonourable, that she use people. But she looked at Alistair from the glass of the cockpit, he seemed to completely trust her.

'He believes, like you do, he may not be as vocal about it, but he has faith too,' Leliana thought.

She flipped on the engine and climbed out, motioning with her hand for Alistair to follow her. He climbed into the cockpit, pushing up against Leliana for a moment.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's okay," Leliana smiled, recognising the nervous behaviour, the hesitation when they touched.

Alistair had never licked a lamppost in winter, Leliana had done that and more.

Marian followed her friend through the forest, smiling at her sister the whole time. Bethany was still comfortably wearing circle robes, carrying her staff on her back. Aveline shot the Hawke siblings looks of caution, her pace slowing slightly as they began wading through the marshes. Marian caught sight of a light in the distance, the sun reflecting off of a sniper scope. She could also see the rebels, hiding in the bush in camouflaged clothes and paint.

"Maker," Bethany gasped as two Stormtroopers popped out of the bushes.

Aveline however wasn't afraid, and looking at the troopers more closely, the minds of the sisters were put at ease too. Elite members of the rebellion wore stolen Stormtrooper armour, repainted black. Sometimes they could even infiltrate enemy bases, as the repainted armour resembled a special ops unit named Deathtroopers.

"How many?" one of the Ferelden troopers asked.

"Three quarters of the tower, including half the Templar legion," Aveline said.

"Is it time?" asked the other.

"Depending on whether he wants us to join the fight, despite his choice, I fully intend on joining them," Aveline said.

"All right, follow us!"

They led the trio into a clearing, where numerous tents had been set up. Tents, makeshift huts, even prefab units. Marian scanned her surroundings, all potential entrances were guarded, through the guards weren't obvious. No more than a couple of people at a time rested, the rest of the camp was busy, moving machinery for stolen speeders, carrying out target practice or sparring. The elite troopers led them to a small tent, one that shouldn't be fit for a leader. But the leader was a smart man, he didn't want his tent to be the one the empire hit first.

"My lord we should be moving our forces to the Anderfels, I hear the imperial presence is low there," a woman in trooper armour, with green highlights on it said.

"Father I disagree, we should establish a more permanent camp, once you're past the Kokari wilds, Ostagar would make a perfect place to set up," said a blonde haired woman.

The man they were talking to raised his hand to silence them. He was a middle aged man, whose eyes alone spoke of the experience he had in battle, and weary he was of it. His dark hair touched his shoulders, and he wore what was known as 'Mac Tir' arms in Ferelden. Though the leather armour was modified to include a black Stormtrooper right shoulder guard, a utility belt from a scout trooper and gloves and armoured gauntlets.

"Chancellor Loghain," Marian bowed her head in respect.

She'd heard of Loghain, closest friend of their former king, a man who won them freedom from the Orlesians, and was still fighting for their freedom.

"Save the formalities, I'm not a lord, I'm not even a real general. Commander Loghain will do, this is my daughter Anora and Ser Cauthrien," Loghain motioned to the other two.

"Which one of you organised the strike?" Cauthrien demanded.

"Liberating the circle is one thing, but you're surely mistaken if you think that you could take even Highever," Anora said.

"My cousin has a plan, and you have central parts to play in it," Bethany said.

"Save your practiced words mage, my lord is the only thing keeping our country from completely falling to the empire," Cauthrien retorted.

"He did say he isn't a lord, has commander Loghain realised the entire planet is under Sith control?" Marian quipped.

"That's not helping Hawke," Aveline chided her.

"If your cousin wishes to make a pact with us, he should come himself, not hide behind his cousins," Anora said.

"As opposed to hiding in Ostagar? You can run and hide, but the Sith will find you, if you want freedom for Ferelden, for all of Thedas, then actually do something about it," Marian explained.

"You've put a lot of faith in one man, why?" Cauthrien asked.

"It's foolish, where is he? What is he doing? Have you not stopped to consider the fact that he may be setting us all up so that he can run away?"

"You don't know my cousin Anora, you have no idea what kind of person he is."

"Exactly!"

"Marian Hawke," Loghain suddenly said, silencing everyone. "You hid, and you succeeded for quite some time. Yet now you have endangered yourself by coming to us, why?" he asked.

"I got tired of hiding, I'm not a coward, I'm not a fool either, if we're going to strike, we have to strike at the right time. The Arl of Highever and Amaranthine, Howe, is on his way to Denerim with honour guards, half the forces from both cities, Cailan will have been keeping half of the city awake with his revelry, celebrating the choosing of Kaius's apprentice. With Kaius and the first enchanter gone from the tower, it was ripe for liberating, now we have Knight-troopers, some of the most disciplined and well trained fighters on our planet right now, and the mages, natural weapons. Denerim, Highever, Amaranthine, these places are vulnerable."

"Rebels from Kirkwall are on their way, they're using boats, the empire doesn't have the instruments to detect their approach. We can carry out a joint attack, all three places at the same time. Once we've liberated them, the rest of the Ferelden nobility will flock and rally to our side, Highever and Amaranthine also have factories for weapons, weapons we'll be able to turn against the Empire. Sure the empire is advanced, we only know about the technology because they shared it with us. But this is our backyard, places across the entire planet have been taken, no one welcomed the empire. History has shown us, that invaders cannot keep the places they have conquered when they have been cruel to the locals."

"When it's your own home, the fighting gets easier, somewhat. I'm not a coward or a fool, I've put my faith in Daylen's plan because it's a good one, because it's a chance, and as rebels we need to take chances, that's why I think you were able to drive Orlais away, because you took chances. We'll take this chance, and if we don't succeed this time, we'll go back and take the next chance, then the next. If we're not prepared to take chances that might succeed, if we only ever hide, then we'll never be free."

* * *

'Incredible,' Alistair thought, seeing how small the city of Kirkwall was from the sky.

His trust in Leliana was well placed. She was piloting the complex machine well, better than Alistair thought she would. Leliana recalled her time at an Imperial training academy, she trained specifically as a pilot, but was in a convenient place to overhear the discussions between officers. The secrets she got, allowed the resistance to remain secure, and the imperial training gave her a valuable skill in this new world.

"Once we're over the water, I'll need you to disconnect the fighter's transponder, then we'll land on the outskirts and make our way back to the city," Leliana explained.

"Back to the city, why would we need to do that?" Alistair asked.

"I left something at that house, where the empire executed that family," Leliana said.

Alistair lowered his head slightly, his own role in that tragedy still fresh on his mind. He frowned however as he adjusted his position, trying to keep as much of a distance from Leliana as he could, which was difficult.

"We can't go back there, tensions will be high in the city," Alistair said.

"I need to go back there, the artefact I left behind is the last hope of freedom our planet has," Leliana explained.

"You're going to put our planet's freedom on the two of us and some artefact small enough for you to hide in a house, I like to be optimistic but that's too much of a long shot," Alistair retorted.

Leliana frowned at the former Knight-trooper. But then she thought about what she was doing. She was angry, she wanted every imperial to suffer, for there to be a quick end to the war. But then she thought about the resistance, how all this time, they had survived because of smart moves. Reanalysing the situation, her cold and practical mindset replaced her emotions. Then, she thought about Ferelden, the place where rebels were already planning to attack three major cities.

"You're right, we should be smart about this, we'll go to Ferelden," Leliana said.

"Good, what's in Ferelden?" Alistair asked.

The red haired beauty smiled at Alistair's innocent expression. Her frown returned however as she checked her display. There was another heat source on their radar, the big silhouette of a Sith shuttle.

"We've got company," she said.

Inside his personal shuttle, Theron narrowed his eyes at the little fighter, and his prey. Beside him, Merrill sat, her wrists cuffed and hesitantly looking between her old friend and the fighter. Leliana banked to her right, and Theron immediately opened fire. No warning, no signal, Leliana just moved, the red beams flying past her fighter. She swerved again, dodging another flurry of shots from the shuttle.

"I think it's our old friend Azab," Alistair said.

"I know it's our old friend Azab," Leliana said as she increased her speed.

"How?" Alistair asked, shocked by the focused and hard look in Leliana's eyes.

"Because I would be pursuing us so passionately, I wouldn't stop until we were destroyed," Leliana explained.

She dived, creating ripples in the seas as she flew across it. Theron fired his cannons again and again, creating splashes in the water as wide as any ship. He positioned the ship behind the fighter, only for Leliana to alter her course, flipping the fighter upwards. Whilst levelling the fighter, Leliana targeted the top of the shuttle. Theron immediately increased the thrust of the shuttle, flying it away from Leliana's burst fire. She increased speed, continuing to fire at the shuttle. But suddenly, the cannons of the bottom of the shuttle rotated, and began firing at the fighter. Leliana performed a hard bank to the right, then took the fighter upwards.

"He's good," Alistair muttered.

"I'm smarter though," Leliana said.

She began flipping switches and rotating knobs on the control console.

"What are you doing?" Alistair asked.

"Plotting a course for the hyperdrive to take us to," she said.

"I thought you could only go at light speed when in space," the former templar said.

"Well, there are certain safety protocols I'm overriding," Leliana retorted, putting a nervous expression across his face.

"Don't worry, my calculations are flawless, I think", she giggled slightly, before slamming down on the lever.

Alistair held on tight, and Azab widened his eyes, as the very form of the fighter was stretched, before it disappeared.

* * *

Daylen had been riding the Halla Lanaya gave him, to the Kokari wilds, when he heard that incredible sound. He looked up, astonished by the sudden appearance of a Sith fighter. Its left wing was burning, and it was going on a crash course, straight towards the wilds.

 **'Go Daylen, get to that fighter!'** a voice echoed in his head.

Daylen galloped the horse into the forest, avoiding the trees of branches, and riding around the swamp land. He followed the cloud of smoke that marked where the fighter landed. When he got there, he saw that the fighter had fallen into one of the lakes, part of it was sticking out.

 **'I bet you could lift it out with the force if you tried, go ahead try it Daylen.'**

Again he heard that voice, gritting his teeth together as he searched his bag for the rope he packed. He stopped however, his hand touching the cross guard sabre he made. But that was strange, he didn't recall packing it, or asking Greigor to give it to him.

 **'The force works in mysterious ways.'**

The young mage shook his head, focusing his attention on the people wading through the water. One was in Knight-trooper armour, and was having a much more difficult time swimming. The red haired woman reached the grass first, but ignoring her draw of her pistol, Daylen dived into the water and swam towards the trooper. He dived underneath the trooper, grabbing his belt and keeping the blonde haired man's face above the water. Whilst pushing on his back underwater, Daylen swam him to the surface.

'I'm wasting time, but I can't just leave them,' Daylen thought.

 **'Of course you can't you wouldn't make a very good hero if you did.'**

Daylen helped the man onto the grass, vomiting out a bit of water as he coughed. The red haired woman still had her pistol trailed on him, and the Knight-trooper was waving his hands for her to put it down.

"Come on Leliana, you can see he's here to help," he said.

"Think Alistair, why would he be out here in the Kokari wilds?" the girl asked.

"That's both your names I know now," Daylen half chuckled.

 **'That isn't helping Daylen. Go on, tell them what you're doing here.'**

"Who are you and why are you out here?" Leliana asked.

Daylen shook his head as he stood up. He looked Leliana in the eyes, and she widened her eyes in shock.

'Red eyes, an abomination?' she thought, her finger drifting over the trigger.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

Alistair put a hand to his own blaster, looking towards where the voice had come from. Standing underneath the branch of a tree was a woman, her arms crossed over her voluptuous chest. She had dark hair tied up into a bun, some bangs hung over her yellow eyes. But they were naturally yellow eyes, not the darkened eyes of a Sith. Her attire was wild too, a simple brown cloth was worn over her chest, showing bits of her midriff and breasts. Leliana rolled eyes as Alistair and Daylen slightly blushed at the woman. She also carried a staff on her back, and Daylen noticed objects dangling off of her belt, light sabres, about five.

"I've often seen would be rebels and Storm troopers stupid enough to brave the wilds," the woman said. "Though none made an entrance with a fighter!"

"And Sith lords?" Daylen asked, motioning to the sabres on her belt.

"Not full Sith lords, there was a time apprentices would be sent here, a test to bring back a prize," she said.

"Even apprentices are difficult to kill," Leliana said.

"Not for me," the woman retorted.

"Are you a force user, do you know how to use those sabres?" Daylen asked.

"Careful," Alistair warned him. "She looks like she could be a member of the woodland tribes, she may not be alone," he said.

"Ah, you fear barbarians will swoop down on you?"

"Yes, swooping is bad!"

"You're a witch of the wilds, but not **the** witch of the wilds, not the Evanuris Mythal are you?" Daylen asked.

That made the woman freeze.

"She goes by the name Flemeth too, you're her daughter Morrigan aren't you?"

"How do you know that name?" she demanded.

"Well with Mythal the Sith revealed everything about the con of the elven gods, so knowing about them is practically an education requirement. As for knowing who you are, it was confirmed that Flemeth, or Mythal, whatever you want to call her, had two daughters, one in Antiva and another in Ferelden, one who followed her around, and considering we're in Ferelden I'm going to assume you are Morrigan," Daylen explained.

 **'I've also just told you that she's Morrigan!'**

Morrigan advanced down the hill, keeping her hands together as she looked down at the trio. She narrowed her eyes at Daylen, who didn't hesitate. Alistair even overcame his initial nerves and returned her hard gaze.

"Why have you come here?" she asked.

"Take me to Mythal, I need to speak with her," Daylen said.

Suddenly, Morrigan began to laugh, throwing her head back and bellowing out. She took a deep breath when she finished, rubbing her chest and smirking at Daylen.

"Now you are a bold one, you know who I am, who my mother is, yet you come here standing up," Morrigan said.

"It was confirmed your mother wasn't a god, not that I would have bowed if she was," Daylen shrugged.

"Why have you come here circle mage?" Morrigan asked.

 **'Be honest Daylen, see if she'll laugh.'**

"Recently I helped liberate the circle tower, we're joining with the resistance, elves, werewolves and Sylvan's, I was hoping for a dragon too," explained.

"What's your name?" Leliana asked.

"Daylen Amell."

"I know your cousin Gamlen, he's already sent boats from Kirkwall," Leliana said.

"Wait, would someone tell me what's going on?" Alistair asked.

"Perhaps it would be better if you discussed this with my mother at her house, where you can redress," Morrigan grinned, gesturing to their soaked clothing.

* * *

Agent Thorne stood at ease, he was one of the few men who could do so in the presence of a Sith lord. All around him, the crew of the Punishment, even the captain remained silent, uneasy as Lumaya paced around the bridge. She looked out at the sea, closing her eyes and no doubt reaching out with the force, expanding her eye sight beyond the physical realm. It was a valuable skill, Thorne didn't doubt the power of the force, he employed force users in intelligence.

"There is much rage in Azab, and arrogance as well," Lumaya said.

"He's made that clear since the day he came here Lady Lumaya, I've informed the Ferelden outpost that Azab will be pursuing escaped rebels and a defector," Thorne explained.

"A defector, he showed no prior signs of conformity?" Lumaya asked.

"He showed...hesitation, understandable hesitation, now it's turned into rebellion," Thorne said.

"A single trooper leaving his post and freeing a prisoner, is hardly a prelude to a rebellion," Lumaya scoffed.

"You know better Lady Lumaya, hatred can breed action, and that's exactly the response you've illicit from the locals."

"I've also incited fear!"

"Even fear can turn into action."

"You are right," Lumaya said, shocking the crew members. "Fear becomes anger, anger hatred, hate then leads to further suffering."

"War," Thorne said.

"Indeed, what greater suffering is the kind inflicted by war, war is inevitable, once our scheme in Thedas is done, the republic will finally know the power of the empire. The disruption of a rebellion is unacceptable, Agent Thorne, you will assist Azab in tracking down the prisoner, bring her back alive, kill the traitor," Lumaya explained.

"Understood, I'll get a squad together immediately!"

* * *

Daylen always knew that the house of Flemeth wouldn't be grand. She had lost her power, now she was just a shape shifting mage, her knowledge was common now and though she was an extremely powerful mage, she was still just a mage. The woman even dressed simply, in clothes that weren't like Morrigan's at all. She had welcomed them, began cooking them a stew, and gave them clothes to change into. To Leliana they gave her trousers and boots with shin guards on them, a red armoured skirt with gold studs on it, armoured bracelets and a top with no right sleeve. The top was red and consisted of silver scale mail across the belly, red leather on the chest, with a red templar scarf partially covering it, the left sleeve had plates of armour running down it.

"Wonderful, the armour is yours," Flemeth said, as if praising Leliana's style.

"It does suit me," Leliana said, turning her hips and admiring it.

Then Daylen and Alistair emerged from behind the bed, both of them clad in scarred grey warden armour. Daylen wore the mage variant, strangely though Alistair used the scout variant, although Daylen was sure the warrior would have worn heavier armour if it was available. He noticed the grin on Flemeth's face, almost as if she had planned on them wearing what they had picked.

"The both of you look like you were destined to wear that armour," Flemeth said, giggling slightly.

 **'She's right, you both look very good in that armour, especially Alistair, it really highlights his butt.'**

An uneasy feeling washed over Daylen, not just from the voice he heard, but the fact it was right. Wearing the grey warden armour did feel right, as if it was his. He ran his hand over the griffon pad on his shoulder, the symbol had slightly faded, and it made him wonder about the order.

"Does anyone know what happened to the wardens?" Daylen asked.

"When the empire discovered that the darkspawn were as smart as humans, they gave an olive branch to the wardens, some wardens joined the empire under the 'warden-trooper' program. They're consultants for assisting the empire in capturing the remaining ancient dragons," Leliana explained.

"Capturing, not killing?"

"The empire has been gathering some of Thedas's natural resources, Lyrium, mages, dragons and other powerful weapons, the resistance thinks that they're using Thedas as a weapon gathering ground, they're preparing for a war with someone and obviously not us."

"Why not us, we're obviously a threat to them," Flemeth said.

Alistair chuckled, scoffing at Flemeth's statement, until she looked at him with a frown.

"This man here is evidence that we are a threat to him, if his statement about liberating the circle tower is true," she said.

"It is, but I wasn't alone," Daylen said.

"Exactly, if enough people work together then even the most oppressive regime can be toppled."

"I suppose you're evidence of that too."

Flemeth hung her head back, looking as if she was insulted by what Daylen said. But then, she suddenly began to laugh.

"Indeed I am young mage, indeed I am, a friend of mine would overdramatize it, but the truth is we Evanuris simply couldn't hold on to our power. In time, our infighting nearly destroyed our world."

"And then Fen'harel banished them to the fade, we all know what happened, its ancient history. I want to focus on now and the future, I've told you that I'm planning to liberate Ferelden, and then fight the empire throughout the rest of the Thedas, I've told you how I'm going to do that. Are you going to help me or not?" Daylen asked.

"No!"

Daylen grit his teeth together, before making his way to the door.

"This was a waste of time," he growled.

 **'Have a little patience Day, she's obviously not finished yet.'**

"I can't afford to waste time here, I need to meet the others."

 **'Patience Day, for a rebel there's time to eat as well.'**

He walked out of the hut, making his way around the marsh around it.

"Wait," Leliana said, she and Alistair both following, the latter carrying Daylen's bag.

"You're planning a rebellion, a full scale armed revolution?" Leliana asked.

"It's a lot better than praying to the maker, or is it the force? Or the Evanuris? Or the emperor? It all gets so confusing nowadays," Daylen said.

"It is the Maker, it will always be the maker," she retorted.

 **'Clearly you've offended her, I'd apologise Daylen.'**

Daylen turned, his face nearly touching Leliana's.

"I agree that what this planet needs is all of its people standing together, a rebel alliance, a true unity of all of the people, otherwise, what will be the point of us defeating the empire. But you will need more than just people working together to defeat the empire, I have something you can use," she explained.

"What is it?" Daylen asked.

"Well she doesn't have it with her exactly, she needs to go to Kirkwall to pick it up," Alistair said.

"It's not in Kirkwall, the key is in Kirkwall, and the key will lead me to the weapon," Leliana said.

 **'Ooh, that sounds ominous and important, I'd keep her around, I'd keep them both around! Alistair cause he's a nice guy and Leliana...well I know how much you like red hair.'**

"Enough," Daylen growled in frustration.

"Enough what?" Alistair asked.

The mage's hand shook as it touched the side of his head. His red eyes narrowed into slits as mana swept over his right arm.

"Who are you? Why are you in my head?" he asked.

 **"I am who I have always been Day."**

"Okay, he's not the only one hearing voices now," Alistair said, as he and Leliana looked at their surroundings, they saw nothing.

 **"I'm your friend Daylen,"** Nelia's ghostly form then appeared in front of the trio.

"Okay, all three of us are crazy now," Alistair said.

"Are you one with the force?" Leliana asked.

Daylen looked back at his two companions. They too saw Nelia, and were amazed by her very presence.

"Wait," he said, as Nelia faded.

 **"Prepare yourselves, someone imprisoned by the dark side is coming!"**

A rush of air nearly pushed the trio back. They shielded their eyes as a vessel hovered above them. Inside that ship, Theron narrowed his eyes.

"There you are!"

Next Episode 8: Let it in

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, and the references from both series.

Leliana is wearing the armour seen in one of her concept arts. The Warden armour Alistair and Daylen are wearing are the Dragon Age Inquisition versions.

Next time, Azab unleashes the power of the dark side and relives his past.


	8. Episode 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Chapter 8: Let it in

"Lethallin, please, make it stop!"

Theron looked at Tamlen, his friend, his blood brother. Gone was his hair, there were dark rings under his eyes and his skin seemed so pale and thin. But there was still strength in his grip, they both gripping on another's hand, even as Theron tried to carry Tamlen through the woods.

"We should never have gone in there, why did I make us go in there?" Tamlen asked.

"Forget it Tamlen, we're going to be okay, we'll be okay," Theron repeated, more to himself than Tamlen.

Weeks ago they had explored ruins, found a device known as an Eluvian, an ancient mirror once used as a complicated method of travel by the original elven society. Believing it would be best used to help them, Tamlen attempted to grab the mirror. Only for it to activate and knock Theron unconscious in a flash of light. When Theron came to, he had been found by a Grey Trooper, a man by the name of Duncan. Even though he was technically an authorised imperial agent, he got on well with Marethari and helped her with Theron.

They explained to him that the Eluvian was tainted, and booby trapped. When the Eluvian shattered, Tamlen was sent away through the network and like Theron infected with the taint. Duncan offered to recruit Theron, recognising his skills. Theron however refused, wanting to find Tamlen, believing that the keeper would want to find Tamlen. But she said no, she said the danger to the clan was too great. Theron begged the other clan members to help him, but they all left with Marethari. Despite their doubts, Theron found his friend, but the taint had taken him at a faster rate than Theron's had.

"They were right, they were right, I was so stupid," Tamlen said.

Theron rested Theron against a tree, not caring that he was likely to infect it. Night was beginning to pass, and they needed rest. Theron began gathering fire wood, using his flint stone to light a fire.

"No Tamlen, they were wrong, she was wrong," Theron said.

"Lathallin," Tamlen whispered.

"All that talk of the clan, all that talk of reclaiming our place in the world, and what was it all for? They smile and laugh with that Shemlen sell out, whilst looking down on all the city elves. Merrill was keeping fragments of the mirror, she was keeping fragments, damn it SHE WAS KEEPING THEM!" Theron scraped his knife against the flint, releasing sparks to start the fire, reflecting the fury in his eyes.

"They care more for a few relics than they do each other, they sold us out, they'll sell each other out if it means getting closer to that history," Theron snarled.

"Our history is important," Tamlen said.

"Fuck the history, none of it matters anymore, every month those imperial historians find a flaw in our beliefs, they rip our culture apart, because they're right. The Evanuris weren't gods, they were just powerful mages, kings and queens who got too inflated by their authority. Our empire failed, and in comparison to their empire, it's just a joke," Theron explained.

"Lethallin please, make it stop!"

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THAT!" Theron screamed.

He had tears in his eyes, and was hugging Tamlen's head tightly.

"They forgot that the most important thing to us should be each other, that without each other, there is no future. There are no gods, no legends, no heaven or hell, we're all we have," Theron sniffed, sitting next to Tamlen and laying him flat. "Please try to sleep Lethallin, tomorrow, we'll continue our search."

Theron remained awake for a while, keeping an eye out for animals, trying to distract himself from the absurdity of his plan. He wanted to find a way to help his friend, to help himself. Over the past week he had been searching for Tamlen, killing animals and humans to defend themselves and using his limited herbalist skills to keep Tamlen going. When he rolled up his sleeves, he could see his veins, as black as the blight. He wasn't as far gone as Tamlen.

'There is still hope, there is still hope, I'm going to find it, I'm going to find it,' Theron thought.

He was so tired though, that he drifted off to sleep.

"Lethallin, Lethallin, LETHALLIN!"

Theron's eyes snapped open. He rolled to the side, dodging the rock Tamlen was holding. Rolling further back, landing in a crouched position, Theron kept his hands raised defensively. Tamlen's hands were shaking as he raised the stone again.

"Kill me," he said the two words Theron didn't want to hear.

With a scream, Tamlen threw the rock, only just missing Theron's head. Theron tried to restrain him, but Tamlen pushed him against one of the trees, grabbing his neck.

"I can't fight it anymore, not strong enough," Tamlen said.

Theron gripped his arms, knocking him to the ground. But Tamlen quickly grabbed his leg, pulling him down as well. They rolled across the dirt, one trying to restrain, the other trying to kill. They suddenly rolled off of a hill, rolling and bouncing downwards, barely missing branches. Theron silently prayed that Tamlen would break his neck. He landed, gritting his teeth together, his forehead had been sliced open in the fall.

"Lethallin," again he heard Tamlen's voice and turned to him.

He could see that Tamlen's right leg was broken, snapped in an unnatural way, the bone had pierced through the knee.

"I'm so sorry Lethallin, don't want to hurt you, am not strong enough, please make it stop!"

There were black tears in his eyes, it was a miracle that he was still able to hold onto a piece of himself. But Tamlen was crawling closer and closer to a rock, the intent to kill still on his mind. Theron picked the rock up, raising it over his heat. Horrifically screaming, he slammed the rock down on Tamlen's head, again and again, coating the ground with bits of bone and brain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Theron whimpered, body shaking, lips trembling, tears and dribble hanging off of his face.

He punched the ground, gritting his teeth together and then yelling like a wounded animal. Touching his eyes, he looked at the diluted blood on his hand.

"I had no choice, I have no choice," he let out a sigh, resigned to his fate.

"You always have a choice!"

He looked up, his eyes emotionless. The one who spoke was hooded, covered by a black cloak. He was quite tall though, well built too, like a human soldier. His eyes crossed to the device on his hip, the weapon of a Sith Jedi, a light sabre.

"You can die with your brother, or you can come with me, and live!"

The hooded man offered Theron his hand, and the broken elf made a choice that would change his life forever.

* * *

 **The Present**

He wanted to savour this moment, killing Leliana and the traitor, he wanted Merrill to watch as he did it. Then once she had outlived her usefulness, he would kill her. The pathetic girl still held onto the belief that he could be saved. Theron took off his mask, revealing to her the horrors of the Taint. He then landed the shuttle, creating a small clearing in the trees. Taking Merrill by her wrist, he walked with her to the loading ramp.

"Once I've dealt with them, you're going to show me to the weapon, then I'll teach you about the nature of the force," he said.

Merrill hesitantly nodded her head, he didn't need her completely convinced. As a mere acolyte he couldn't take an apprentice, but Merrill didn't know that. He wouldn't have wanted her anyway.

"What is that presence I feel?" Theron mused out loud.

He looked up to the hilltop, where a woman in yellow robes stood, smirking at him.

"It seems we've had all sorts of visitors to the wilds now," she said.

"I'm here on imperial business witch, do not interfere," Theron said.

"Imperial business? Or your own?" she inquired.

"Imperial business, is my own business," he retorted.

"Oh you are interesting, just like the red eyed one," she laughed.

Then she disappeared over the hill. Ignoring the witch, Theron carried on. He and Merrill walked to a small clearing, where a river was positioned. He bought his sabre up to his hand, igniting the curved blade. Closing his eyes briefly, he gave himself to the force, just briefly enough to enhance his senses. Then he felt it, or rather he couldn't feel it, it was like a blank space in the force. But suddenly, it was like a star, disorientating his connection with the force. Someone suddenly collided with Merrill, tackling her and rolling with her into a ditch.

"An arcane warrior technique, I didn't think I'd meet a human who could master phasing," Merrill said.

"You never could learn to shut up Merrill," Theron huffed.

He advanced on the place they were hiding in. Suddenly, blue energy rushed past him, appearing behind him. It was a human mage, in Grey warden armour of all things. Electricity rushed from his hand, striking Theron. The attack dazed and temporarily paralysed him.

"Stop please," Merrill said.

The foolish human stopped, and Theron swung his sabre at the man. At the very last second, the mage's form shimmered, he left a blue afterimage and pulled Merrill along with him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"He's my friend," she said.

Theron smirked, continuing to advance on the mage. Suddenly, several blaster bolts flew out of the bushes. He quickly began to deflect them, keeping his eyes out for the shooters. Even without the force, he'd been a great hunter. Levitating a nearby rock, he sent it flying towards the traitor, who was also in old grey warden armour. The blonde haired man dived to the side, continuing to fire his blaster rifle at Theron. Nightingale fired her pistol, but Theron blocked those shots too. He picked up rocks, using them as shields and counter projectiles, keeping them under cover.

"Alistair and Leliana told me that he tortured you, and massacred your clan," he heard the mage tell the former second.

"He did, but we abandoned him, we..."

"Abandoned him, wait, he had the taint didn't he?"

'Impressive deduction skills,' Theron thought.

As he blocked the blaster bolts, he reached into the middle of a nearby tree. Snapping the tree, he made it tilt in the direction his prey was.

"INCOMING!" he heard the mage yell.

He saw the shimmer of blue, the mage tackled both the traitor and Nightingale. They rolled down the hill, into the cover of several rocks. Theron broke off into a run, drawing on his hatred. He would kill them all together. Jumping over the rocks, he expected to see the trio hiding. Instead he saw a blinking thermal detonator.

"Oh those basta..."

* * *

At the edge of the forest, Thorne heard the explosion and shook his head. In his eyes Azab was turning what should have been an easy hunt into a catastrophe. He nodded to the troopers, they were special forces, the best training and the best equipment. Red and black armour, dome helmets, different from the Storm troopers. They began sneaking into the woods, their armour shifting as they activated their stealth devices. Thorne bought out his holocommunicator, contacting the garrison commander. Instead, the tall and horned image of Darth Kaius answered.

"Lord Kaius, I was expecting the garrison commander, why are you on the sensors?" Thorne asked.

"I allowed the soldiers here to revel with the king and governor Price," Kaius said.

"There are two escaped prisoners in the woods near Ostagar, and a deserter, Acolyte Azab is attempting to apprehend them, but I believe he has been over powered," Thorne explained.

"Unfortunately there has been an incident at the circle tower Thorne, reinforcements won't be coming," Kaius said.

"Very well lord Kaius," Thorne lowered his head, putting his communicator away.

In Denerim, Kaius stood in the middle of the communications tower.

"Thorne is not chasing fugitives, everything is normal," he waved his hand.

"Thorne is not chasing fugitives, everything is normal," all of the staff said, and they continued their work as if nothing had happened.

* * *

They had a short moment to rest, but Daylen had a feeling the Sith Acolyte had survived the explosion. There would be no help from Flemeth or her daughter, at least that was what Daylen thought. He walked with Alistair and Leliana back to where the elf girl was, immediately stepping between them when she drew her staff, and Leliana her pistol.

"Stop, both of you please," he said.

"You've killed him, you've killed Theron," Merrill snarled.

"That man murdered your clan, and has executed many more since," Leliana retorted.

"Hasn't there been enough killing today?" Alistair asked, joining Daylen's side.

"We don't have to fight each other," the mage nodded his head.

"Tell her that," Leliana said.

 **"Merrill, do you even want to kill anyone?"** Surana asked her.

The force ghost quickly faded as Merrill looked behind her. She then reappeared when Merrill turned her back, grinning as the Dalish girl looked at the trio confused.

"It's a good question Merrill," Daylen said, stepping in front of her. "Do you want to kill anyone?" he asked.

"No, I don't," Merrill lowered her staff slightly, and Daylen placed his hand on it.

"None of us really do, not me or Leliana, or Alistair, your friend, Theron, he does though. Whatever he has promised you, he will betray you, tell me would the Theron you knew have massacred every man, woman and child in his clan?"

"No, he wouldn't have," Merrill lowered her head, and Daylen took a step forward, planting his hand on it.

"Whether you like it or not, he's changed Merrill, everything that he was is gone. Maybe there is a bond strong enough to pull him out of the darkness, but unfortunately, it's not you," he explained.

 **"Oh come on Day, have a little more hope, not everyone is lost to the dark side!"**

"Okay, am I the only person hearing that?" Merrill asked.

"No you're not, unfortunately," Daylen muttered.

"I just, I just want to save my friend," the girl cried.

"When are you going to get it through your head?"

The group turned, their eyes wide in shock. Theron was standing there, his shirt had burnt off, along with some of his skin. He was gritting his teeth together in pain, his eyes bright yellow, whilst his sabre swept across the floor with every step he took.

"Your friend, HATES YOU NOW!" Theron yelled.

He rushed forward, jumping and swinging his sabre at the group. Daylen quickly took out the cross guard sabre, igniting the blade, much to the shock of the group members. He parried the red sabre, quickly forcing Theron back with a push. Then he added a fireball, hitting Theron and searing his chest. The dark side, and his own anger amplified his endurance, he fought through the pain of the flames.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" he yelled.

He used his own force push, sending Daylen flying across the forest, slamming back first into a tree. Then he lunged at Alistair, only for Merrill to pierce her hand. She released a blast of blood magic, knocking Theron back and binding him with chains of blood.

"Stop it Theron, please," Merrill said.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU!" Theron screamed.

He broke through the blood magic trap, picking Merrill, Leliana and Alistair up with the force.

 **"The force is with you, just let it in."**

"Anyone else hear that?" Alistair asked.

"We can all hear it," Leliana said.

"All of you, SHUT UP AND DIE!" Theron yelled.

 **"Just let it in."**

A blue thread suddenly wrapped around Theron's neck. He was pulled back, the thread fading as Daylen prepared a fireball. Fire and force lightning collided, with Theron pouring all his anger into the attack. Daylen bought up his barrier, protecting himself from the full force of the attack. But currents were seeping through the wall, grabbing at him and putting him through pain. Daylen grit his teeth together, trying to concentrate on strengthening his barrier.

 **"Just let it in."**

Daylen widened his eyes as the barrier broke, and the force lightning pulled him off of the floor. Theron grinned, Daylen's pain strenghtened him immensely. Daylen looked down, at where his light sabre was. But he couldn't reach it, if only he could reach it.

 **"The force is with you, you just have to let it in!"**

Suddenly, the lightsabre began to levitate. It flew, hitting Theron in the forehead. His concentration broken, Theron and Daylen watched as the device clumsily bounced about, before flying past the elf's head.

 _(Duel of Fates)_

"Well, this is unexpected," Alistair said.

Theron turned around, narrowing his eyes in pure fury at the traitor. Alistair activated the cross guard sabre, raising it above his head, gripping the handle with both hands. It was a common sword method used by the templars. Theron ignited his own sabre, letting the dark side fuel him as he walked forward, in pain, yet every bit as strong as he was before. Alistair blocked his first strike, countering with a thrust. Theron stepped back, shocked that it nearly struck his face. He swung his sabre, but Alistair parried it, delivering a cut to Theron's cheek.

"How the hell, do you know light sabre forms?" he demanded.

"It's not lightsabre form, it's called sword fighting," Alistair retorted. "Or have you forgotten that most warriors trained with swords before the Sith came here? I guarantee you, without the force and just a common blade, a lot of the warriors of Thedas are just as good at duelling as the Sith are, if not better," he explained.

Red slammed into white, one fuelled by rage, the other fuelled by simple discipline. But as Theron moved in a circle, trading blows with Alistair, trying to find his weakness, he felt something in the force. They broke off into a flurry of swings, both sabres colliding with one another. Every swing of Theron's sword, Alistair parried, every counter, Theron blocked. Theron tried to swing his blade at Alistair's leg, but the former templar blocked the swipe, their sabres crackled together as Alistair slowly forced Theron's arm up.

"This is impossible, I am one of the Sith, I was chosen, you're just a bastard taken from the Chantry," Theron said.

Alistair bashed Theron's blade aside, and blocked it again and again. Theron yelled, furiously swinging his sabre at Alistair, again and again. Alistair watched the blade, parrying it with every blow. His sight ran down the length of the blade, to the light sabre port. Theron shoulder barged Alistair, knocking him against a tree. They raised their sabres, and then locked them together. Alistair pushed the blade closer towards Theron, nearly touching his face with the cross guard sabre. For once, he saw fear in Azab's eyes. Then in one fluid motion, Alistair rotated the cross guard sabre, struck Theron's sabre with the guard blades and traced the blade across Theron's belly.

 _(End track)_

The motion ended with Alistair beside Theron, deactivating the cross guard sabre, as the pieces of Theron's own light sabre fell to the floor. A look of shock spread across Theron's face, before he fell to the floor, holding the mark across his belly. Merrill quickly rushed to Theron's side, cushioning his head as he fell back. He looked past her face and up at the sky.

"Master!"

In the Super Star Destroyer class vessel, the Hunter, the members of the Sith Thedas council sensed the passing of their acolyte.

"Disappointing, but not unexpected," Tenebrous said.

Plagueis nodded his head in agreement, whilst Zannah remained indifferent. The hooded man however stood up and looked down at the planet.

"His tragedy became his prison and not his drive, his anger became his undoing and not his strength, something is about to happen in Ferelden," the hooded man said.

"Ferelden, if I'm not mistaken that is Kaius's territory, should we warn him?" Plagueis asked.

"Search your feelings my former apprentice, Kaius already knows," Tenebrous said.

"He's planning something!"

"Something that benefits us?" Zannah asked the hooded man.

"Yes, yes it does," he said, sitting back on his seat, but continuing to watch Ferelden.

* * *

Daylen looked down at Merrill as she laid Theron flat.

"Why treat him so kindly, that monster murdered people," Leliana said.

"Once he was my friend, it's difficult for me to forget that," Merrill retorted.

Merrill closed Theron's eyes, planting a kiss on his forehead and standing up. She dusted the dirt off of her clothes and nodded her head at the trio.

"You loved him didn't you?" Daylen asked.

"Yes, but I see now that, this was the only peace he could find. We were wrong then, to do what we did, we need to be better. I think, I think we can be better, and still be free, don't you?" Merrill asked.

Alistair and Leliana looked at Daylen as he lowered his head. Once again he was thinking, about the rebellion, about the morality of what he was doing. Every time he did think about it, he wondered something, about whether it was possible to save everyone? He never found an answer to that question, but he did at least find an answer for Merrill.

"We're certainly going to try, to be free and better," he said.

"You're rebels aren't you?" she asked.

"It's early to say," Alistair said.

"We are rebelling, and we're looking for allies, will you fight for the dream?" Daylen asked, offering Merrill his hand.

Merrill smiled as she moved to take Daylen's hand. Suddenly, a red bolt flew into Merrill's chest. Her eyes were wide in shock as she fell to the floor.

"SNIPER!" Leliana yelled.

Daylen immediately erected a barrier around them, more blaster bolts flew towards them, slamming into the barrier. Merrill looked up at Daylen, her lips shaking as she reached out to touch the hand he offered.

"Go, save your rebellion, save the dream," she whispered.

Her hand dropped to the floor, and all of the light left her eyes. Squeezing his hands into fists, he grit his teeth together and his mana began to flow across his arms. He concentrated, focusing this time, using every bit of it to create a clear construct, a Knight-Enchanter's sword. Suddenly, he blinked out of existence, passing through the fade, his form like a ghost as he rushed towards the imperials. In an instant he was where they were, his mana sword tearing through something that didn't appear to be there. Blood spread across the floor, and the Imperial trooper appeared on Daylen's sword.

"Look out," one of the troopers said, raising a fold out riot shield.

But Daylen turned his mana sword into a fire blast, hitting the trooper's shield. Like snakes, the flames rolled around the man's shield, fusing his armour to his skin. The other troopers prepared to fire on Daylen, only for blaster bolts to hit them in the face. Leliana and Alistair moved up, one with his rifle and sabre, the other with her pistol. They fired, hitting one trooper after another. Leliana stopped, seeing the faint outline of a cloaked trooper. She quickly shot the man and ran to his body. As Alistair deflected bolts with his sabre, Leliana picked up the repeating blaster and fired at the emerging troopers.

"Agent Thorne, we need reinforcements," one of the troopers said.

He screamed as flames consumed his body. Daylen rushed out of the flames, slashing two more troopers with his mana sword. Alistair beheaded one trooper and then shot another. He grabbed a thermal detonator with the force, throwing it into the middle of a group of troopers. Daylen's mana sword faded as he created a dome around the troopers. They pounded desperately against the walls, before the grenade went off. Daylen took cover behind a tree, looking through his bag for a mana potion. A trooper popped out of cover, aiming his rifle at Daylen, only for a bolt to fly into his side. Leliana shot the trooper two more times, then threw the blaster aside and drew her pistol.

"If they can make three people feel like ten, imagine what they could do with ten people," Morrigan said, watching the fight with her mother.

"The flames of rebellion will spread, until it stretches the entire planet, dark days are coming my girl," Flemeth said.

She watched the trio advance through the forest, killing one trooper after another. Morrigan smiled, pleased that the flame of rebellion had been ignited. Flemeth however laughed, her own way of showing her approval over the chaos. Thorne listened over the radio, hearing his men die. He drew his pistol as the three rebels emerged from the woods.

"Three people, impossible," he gasped.

He fired his pistol, only for Alistair to deflect the bolts. Alistair carefully redirected the bolts, knocking Thorne's pistol out of his hand. He bought his sabre up towards Thorne's neck, and the man lowered his head in defeat.

"The difference between us and you, or me at least, I'll actually follow my code," Alistair deactivated his sabre, and delivered a hard punch across Thorne's face.

The imperial agent fell to the ground, unconscious. Daylen took the rope from his bag and began to tie the man up.

"What do we do now?" Leliana asked.

"We do what Merrill asked us to, we save the dream," Daylen said.

"Marvellous," Morrigan said, revealing herself and her mother behind them.

"Allow us to assist you," the witch of the wilds said.

* * *

 **South Beach**

They had gathered, finally, the rebellion was here. Three hundred didn't seem like such a grand number, when compared to the overall thousands of troops protecting the empire. But Loghain recalled plenty of battles against Orlais where he and Maric seized victory with few numbers. Only this time, if they lost, the rebellion was over. He was putting everything into this one battle, with nothing but hope to get him by. What he didn't tell his daughter, or anyone else, was that he had counted on hope before. He went into his first battle with only hope, and he won.

"This isn't enough, we need more men, we need the Bannorn to support us," Anora said.

"We've claimed the tower, and its weapons," chimed in Greigor.

The man was dressed in his Knight-trooper armour, behind him were many other Knight-Troopers, all of whom had added riot shields and shock staves to their arsenal.

"It will take more than stolen blasters and armour to win the day," Ser Cathrien said.

As she spoke, several rebels were already putting on modified storm trooper armour. Blue stripes had been added on the helmets and chest plates, whilst the shoulder pads had been painted blue. A quarter of the men and women they managed to find were fully equipped.

"You have our magic, and the collective knowledge of every book in the tower," Petra said.

Like every other mage in their army, she wore the thick coated and lightly armoured 'Free Army Battlemage' armour and had strapped to their backs their own staves. Anders however wore his blue and cream coat with the feathered shoulders, and was leaning lazily against his staff, freedom's call. A retinue of apostates joined him, dressed in different variations of leather armour and carrying homemade staves.

"And what is to happen if you mages turn the battlefield into a blood bath with your deals with abominations?" Anora asked.

"If it comes to that, we guarantee it'll be worse for the empire than us," Anders grinned.

"We have hope, rebellions have been built on less," Marian said.

Her rebel group seemed so ill equipped, most in just regular clothes. But her group was the one who reminded Loghain of his own rebels days the most.

"She's right," Loghain said, catching their attention. "We built the rebellion against Orlais on hope, we've built this rebellion on hope, let us do more, let us have the courage to leap," he explained.

No, the crowds chanted.

"Fight," one soldier said, "Against vessels from the stars, against fighters, against metal craft that walk across the ground, no, we run from that and live!"

"I'd rather die a fool covered in my own blood, than an old man soaked in my own piss," Aedan Cousland of Highever said.

"Then that is your choice, this isn't a rebellion, it's a suicide pact," said another soldier, this one a nobleman.

 _(Ninja Tracks-The Machination)_

Some began to turn, and walk away. But then, the great roar came from the sky. The rebels looked up in awe as a red high dragon landed on the hilltop. Daylen jumped off of the dragon's back, with his companions and their prisoner. He raised the cross guard light sabre, igniting its blade. All looked upon the weapon, none had ever seen one like it before. True they had seen the red blades of the Sith, but never a pure white blade of lyrium.

"My people, sons and daughters of Ferelden, some if not most of you know what the empire is capable of, you've seen their cruelty. Well if not, listen to these two, they know what the empire is capable of," Daylen pointed to Alistair and Leliana, both of whom stood ready to do their part.

"Like many of the men here, I served as a Knight-trooper, but I was not stationed at a circle tower, I was put to work, not hunting apostates, or dangerous maleficarum, but enforcing the will of the empire and their new chantry, on those who continued to follow the old and more, I have seen entire clans of Dalish elves murdered. The empire thinks itself above us, they think they are more civilised because they have made laws and regulations, that they have accountability. This is a lie, a lie they tell us, and most likely tell those who live in other worlds conquered by the empire."

"My name is Leliana, many of you may know me by the moniker Lady Nightingale. I serve the true chantry, and it isn't the buildings, or the scriptures, or the symbols and art. The true chantry is in the belief that the maker loves all, that every life is important. But the empire doesn't believe that, the Sith believe that might makes right, that cruelty makes right. I surrendered to them, and they gunned down a family whom offered me shelter, 'as an example' they said, an example of what? That they'll kill for the smallest of offences? For criticising them? For looking at them the wrong way? Or for simply looking at them? I have seen it firsthand."

"Recently I discovered that the empire wouldn't be taking Sith apprentices from the towers. If you care nothing for what the empire is doing now, think about what they may do in the future, when they've taken their fill of lyrium, when mages stop being useful to them, what other reason would they have for occupying our planet? What do any of you think they will do when they have accomplished what they set out to do here?"

The hesitation was still there. But they weren't yelling back at them, trying to stop them from explaining. Daylen could see it in Loghain's eyes, that he was fully prepared to fight. He was even dressed in Ferelden armour, black with gold highlights on the shoulders and leg pads. His great sword rested on his shoulder, a black blade with gold markings across it and a guard. Likewise Cauthrien wore the Ferelden style armour, with fur around the neck and the coat of arms on her shoulder pads. Cauthrien and Anora would both go wherever Loghain went.

"They're right, they've taken our children from us, some of your children have even been sent off world," former Arl Eamon said, remaining close to his son Connor.

Slowly, those gathered nodded amongst themselves. The Avvar Barbarians, the Qunari Barasad, the Andraste cultists, the Dalish elves, they all nodded, agreeing that there was one thing they had to do. They were marching to war.

Next Episode 9: The battle for Ferelden part 1: Opening salvo

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, originally I thought of Theron redeeming himself, but then I figured he had nothing really left that would make him redeem himself. Originally I also thought Daylen would use force abilities, and embrace the force, but at this early stage, it would have been too easy for him to do that, especially with his doubts about it.

So I decided Alistair would pick up the sabre, and that he would be the one to kill Theron, I thought it would be fitting end for Theron.

Ninja Tracks-The machination was a song used in one of the Rogue One trailers, thought it was epic enough to suit the rebellion finally coming together.


	9. Episode 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

Quite a few of the looks for different Dragon Age characters who appear, are taken from the game Heroes of Dragon Age

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 9: Opening Salvo

Rendon Howe got what he deserved. His children would never talk to him again, but he felt like he had gotten everything he deserved. By putting all of his lot in with the empire, he had been allowed to keep his Arlship of Amaranthine and take the Cousland's land of Highever. He wore the uniform of an imperial officer, had a place at the Ferelden court, and was considered the number one person to go to if the empire ever needed help. Finally, all of his sacrifice was paying off. He had a legion of Stormtroopers and access to tech few lords were allowed. The two legged, imperial walkers marched with his troops. He was on top of a horse, and the rest of his lowly troops were walking. They were on their way to Denerim, to take part in a parade, celebrating the anniversary of the empire's arrival. Cailan often looked for reasons to celebrate, the brat was denying reality with his parties.

"ARL HOWE!"

He suddenly stopped, and the troopers went onto the alert. They followed Rendon's eyes to the hilltop, where three elves stood. Two women, both blonde haired, but the other had armour and pale skin, whilst the second had her hair tied up and wore robes that exposed her arms and the middle of her chest. They both stood either side of a bald Dalish elf, wearing brown and green robes.

"Who dares stop the imperial army?" Howe demanded, removing his pistol from his holster.

Suddenly, an arrow pierced his hand, making him drop his weapon. He looked towards where the arrow came from. His eyes widened, seeing a man he often thought about every day. Nathaniel was like his sister, taking more after their mother with his dark hair. The young man stood in a blue and silver coat of arms, silver armour covering his legs and arms, readying an arrow for his bow.

"Nathaniel, I allowed you to leave my house, now you stand against me, have you no shame?" Rendon asked.

"The shame is yours father," Nathaniel retorted.

"Even if your friends are mages, you are outnumbered, turn back and I may forgive this," Rendon said.

"I'm not alone though!"

The ground was shaking, and in the distance Rendon could hear howling. The troopers kept their blasters ready, and the Walkers looked around. Suddenly, a Ferelden Frostback dragon swooped down on the Walkers, grabbing one and lifting it above the floor, striking and toppling the second Walker. Soon afterwards, the dragon dropped the Walker, slamming it head first into the ground. Rendon kept his horse steady, looking to the mages as the troopers shot randomly at the sky.

Lanaya, Valana and Zathrien removed their staves and slammed them into the ground. Roots began bursting out of the grass, wrapping around some of the troopers. The other troopers were either shooting at their barrier, or trying to cut the bound ones free. They were distracted, and they were too late to discover what was shaking the ground. Sylvans ran into the legion, kicking the troopers, or picking them up and throwing them. Rendon's shock was shared by all the troopers, many of whom had previously scoffed at the idea of walking trees. The legends of Thedas rampaged through the troopers, their blasters useless at range.

At the back ranks, the dragon swooped downwards again, shooting fire into the whole troop formation. Many were burnt, and others crawled across the ground. They were confused and distraught by the sudden attack from Thedas myths. None were prepared for an attack, they were weak and easy pickings for the rest of the Thedas legends. Swiftrunner and his werewolf brethren leapt into the fray, tearing off limbs and biting down on necks. Rendon's horse screamed as several werewolves ran by it. Witherfang herself emerged from the pack, the white wolf howled, striking fear into the overrun troopers. Rendon was suddenly thrown off his horse, watching in horror as the animal was dragged to the ground and gutted by the werewolves.

"Impossible, impossible," Rendon whispered as he got off of the floor.

He had twisted his ankle in the fall, and began limping away from the massacre. Witherfang jumped on top of a trooper, ripping pieces of her neck out. The old oak himself picked several troopers off of the ground and threw them across the field. Green armoured Dalish and Ferelden Ash warriors moved to the helpless troopers, stabbing with swords and hacking with axes respectively. Lines of troopers began to make their way up one of the hills, attempting to get an advantageous position. Dalish in green armour and Avvar tribesmen lined up with Nathaniel, knocking back their arrows. the projectiles rained down on the troopers, most bouncing off of their armour, but others hitting their joints and bringing them to the ground.

The fourth wave then emerged from the hill the troopers tried to retreat up. A golem known as Shale walked with Dwarven warriors and rogues, crushing several troopers whilst the others cut their throats. Howe continued to limp up one of the hills, until a blaster bolt hit his leg. He fell to the ground, screaming in pain. The man remained on his knees as a shadow loomed over him. Howe looked up in fear at the tall man standing above him. He had short dark hair, and a tattoo over his eye.

"Hello Arl Howe," Aedan Cousland said.

"You, you cannot touch me, I am an imperial officer," Howe said.

Aedan leant down and flicked Howe's forehead. He huffed, standing back up, before stomping on Howe's blaster wound.

"Because of your betrayal of my family, I was never able to know my father or mother, my brother and I have had to watch as you abused the people of Highever, our people. But no more, we're going to take it back, and you Howe, I'd kill you now if not for Nathaniel and Daylen's insistence on keeping you alive. You're going to live as our pawn, because that is what you deserve," Cousland explained, before he kicked Howe across the face, knocking him unconscious.

When the last trooper fell, the rebels cheered, all of that and no lives were lost on their end. Nathaniel looked at his chronometer, they had achieved all that with only the time readers to aid them. With great magic and the power of nature itself, they were able to beat five hundred troopers. The second phase of Daylen Amell's plan had succeeded.

* * *

Highever

Isabela adjusted her bandanna, rubbing her helm one last time. She'd take to the field, just like all of the warriors in her ship. She brought the boat into the harbour, a quick visit to her office and she emerged with her knives strapped to her back and a black leather corset around her chest. Whilst her first mate oversaw the transfer of goods, she met with the main group of rebels. As 'mercenaries' they simply went to the nearest tavern. But the tavern owner had cleared the place out, leaving only them. There was Isabela, Fenris, Sebastian, Varric and a red haired elf woman named Tallis, she wore green leather armour with a hood attached to it, dark green trousers with brown boots and green pads on her thighs, brown fingerless gloves started at her elbows, with green wrist guards on them, brown pads also covered her shoulders.

"Thank the maker you're here, I've been hiding these, for some time," the bar keep said, grunting as he lifted a chest onto the table they sat at.

He opened it to reveal five explosive charges. All of which would be operated on a timer. Each of the 'heroes' of the dragon age took the explosives, putting them in their pouches. The bar keep then unravelled a map of Highever.

"Here's the factory, the security station is there, then there is the fighter launch pad, there are four fighters there. Security there consists of the basic Storm troopers, locals simply pass through, no one in Highever can pilot a fighter so they mostly leave them be. Then there is the barracks, its overlooked by an old bell tower, it's in disrepair but there should be a spot for you to snipe from," the man explained, looking at Sebastian.

He'd already pretty much told Sebastian where to go, and the former prince wasn't going to correct him.

"The main gate is where the first security checkpoint is, this is the most heavily populated area in terms of Storm troopers, that's where things get tricky. Innocent people are going to die if we blow that area."

"That's the area I'll take then," Isabela said, causing the others to look at her. "My actions have killed the innocent before," she shrugged her shoulders.

"Then there's the second problem, the communication outpost, now this is the one that needs to be destroyed. If not, they'll warn other nearby outposts of what's going on here. By succeeding in destroying it, you'll draw the attention of the shadow guards there," the bar keep continued.

"Shadow Guard?" Isabela raised her eyebrows. "Sounds ominous, the sexy kind of ominous."

"They're force users, not strong enough to be apprentices or acolytes, but not weak enough for the empire to ignore, they're skilled with their sabre staffs, and completely fearless," Tallis explained.

"I'll take care of them," Fenris said.

"You sure you'll be okay broody?" Varric asked.

"If it was anyone else it would be a suicide mission, I'm the only one who has a chance of surviving," the former slave, now a free rebel smiled.

"Then I suppose I'll take the checkpoint at the factory, I assume all the defences inside are automated," Tallis said.

"They are, Tethras," the bar keep turned to the dwarf.

"Then that means I'll take the landing pad," he sighed.

"At least they'll never see you coming," Sebastian quipped.

"Don't use jokes choir boy, it doesn't suit you," Varric retorted.

The party began making their way out of the bar, when Varric stopped Isabela.

"I need to say something Rivaini, about the mission," he said.

"Why whatever is it Varric?" she asked.

"I'd keep those explosives, I don't think we'll need to blow up the checkpoint for the main gate, it's the most heavily populated area right. I have a feeling once the fighting starts, once it's clear that the advantage is ours, people will flock to our banner. Rally them Rivaini, rally them," Varric explained.

Isabela put a hand to her chin, thinking deeply about the plan. In truth, she didn't want innocent blood on her hands.

"In that case, you should go to the security checkpoint, I will handle the landing pad," she said.

"Rivaini, you're a woman after my own heart, see you on the other side," Varric nodded his head, a respectful sentiment that Isabela shared.

The five split off in their intended directions, whilst miles from the city, Marian, Aveline and Bethany led a group of mages and rebels in stolen Storm-trooper armour. Leading the Apostates was Anders, who chuckled as he looked at Highever.

"Now what?" he asked.

"We wait," Marian said.

She put on a pair of goggles and made her way over to the speeder bikes they had taken. Marian checked her chronometer, just like Charade and the bombers were doing in Highever. Flying the bike around the border of Highever, Marian scouted the defences. There were two border patrols, the ranks of which were filled by freshly recruited and trained troopers, local boys who wanted a fight but had no real idea what a fight was. Either they were fully committed to the imperial occupation, or somewhere in their hearts, they doubted the empire, hated it for the abuses it committed. Marian wasn't going to count on any defectors, she flew back to her party and pointed out the gap in the enemy formation.

Anders led a contingent of apostates, barbarians and a few Dalish arcane warriors and hunters. The key to taking Highever and Amaranthine was being quick about it. The explosives were one part distraction, another part sabotage of the enemy's vital systems. Daylen suggested destroying these parts first, but did not have the means to do so. There was a gang in Amaranthine that stole from the empire, and smuggled goods in through a secret path, whilst in Highever, things had become so lax that the imps never noticed one or two explosives missing from inventories.

Linking up with Marian's group, Anders smiled at her. She smiled back, but Bethany quickly clicked her fingers. Anders loved his freedom, and he loved many people. Marian wasn't chaste or even free spirited, but she never denied who she liked. The rebels moved through the gap in the imperial patrol, through a field of long grass. They kept up a slow pace, crouching as low as they could, practically crawling through the grass. All the while, Marian kept an eye on the time, everything had to be perfect.

* * *

Amaranthine

Varel was local to Amaranthine, and though he didn't deny that the empire had made the lives of the people of Thedas better, he hated what they had done to their civil liberties. He'd fought in the rebellion against the Orlesian occupation, and he was going to fight against the imperial occupation. Varel checked the chronometer his friends in the resistance gave him. Everything had to be timed perfectly apparently, the old smuggler's path was the best way in, but it was also the longest. That took up some time, Varel expected them earlier, but they were a little bit delayed.

Discovery wasn't an issue though, Varel remained calm, even when a Storm trooper came into the smuggler's cave. His armour had blue paint on his shoulders and helmet. He lifted off his helmet, revealing a blonde haired man. Garevel was another Amaranthine local, he had been part of the city guard for years. He too hated what the empire had done to the world. His help had been invaluable in getting everything ready. Two of his men brought in a crate filled with Storm trooper armour, all with the same blue highlights as his.

They waited, and the boats finally arrived. Men and women, fighters, rogues, mages, all emerged from the boats. Those who knew how to pass as troopers began putting on the armour. Others took up explosives and rifles Varel had secured. They kept them concealed with their cloaks, and walked out onto the markets in front of the city. Garevel and his contingent of disguised troopers however, took to a different path, a tunnel that smugglers used for escaping. It took them to the meeting point. There, Aedan Cousland and some of his men were preparing their own armour. All of Aedan's men, including his lover Mhairi wore heavier armour, with blue scout visors above their eye lenses, back packs with additional weapons, and much heavier weapons than the basic rifles Garevel's men carried.

Aedan himself wore Stormtrooper armour with a blue commander's pad on his right shoulder, and an additional black pad on his left. Black utility pockets had been placed on his chest plate, his belt had more equipment space, and had additional holsters. Blue cloths were attached to either side of his belt, ending at his knees. The blue highlights were also on his arm armour, his chest plate, and his shin guards were also blue. He attached his pack onto his back and checked over his two pistols, placing both in their holsters before picking up his rifle. With his free hand, he picked up his helmet, highlighted blue like the others, but with a fin on the forehead, and an antenna attached to the left side of it. Looking towards Vigil's keep, Aedan began leading the men, his troopers towards it. He put on the trooper helmet, ready to take the Howe ancestry home.

* * *

Taming of the Dragons-Crestwood

Crestwood was a village under imperial occupation. The mayor wore the imperial uniform, but the presence of the Stormtroopers was low there, limited to a Walker, a hover tank and four speeders. When Flemeth flew down in her dragon form, she put the fear of the dragons into the troopers, and the villagers themselves. Once Daylen, Alistair, Leliana and Morrigan disposed of the troopers, and bound the mayor, they addressed the people of Crestwood, telling them about their inevitable assault against the empire. Then of course they showed them the symbol of the rebellion, the item they would use for rallying others, the crossguard sabre. The young, and veterans of the Orlesian rebellion flocked to fight, getting together slingshots, hammers, swords, whatever they could use as weapons. Those who knew how took the E-11 imperial blasters to use, and mounted the assault vehicles.

"That sabre is of more use to you as a symbol than a weapon," Flemeth said, leading the four through the plains.

Her form had changed, now she looked more like the image of the great Mythal. She wore gauntlets and boots that went up the length of her limbs, they were copper coloured and had gold highlights on them. Her shirt had a gold pattern on it, and exposed part of her chest, with blue hair covering her shoulders. She wore a dark and gold headdress, and her hair itself had gone white, it stuck out towards the back of her head, forming four dragon like horns.

"After we've secured our forces, I'm going to give it to Alistair," Daylen said.

"You made it," Alistair said.

"Yes but you're the better swordsman."

"Besides, he already has a light sabre," Flemeth laughed.

"Why have we come here?" Leliana asked.

It was the question that had been on everyone's mind, and it was that moment Flemeth chose to stop. She summoned her staff, a long pole with a sickle blade on the top of it. The witch raised her hands, magic coursing on the clawed finger tips of her gauntlets. Suddenly, a cry came from the nearby hilltops. A great dragon came from the hills, flapping its gigantic wings. The dragon's scales had a pattern of purple and yellow across it, its horns curved, much like a goat. When it landed, it bowed its head to Flemeth.

"There is a great power in dragons you know, why do you think the empire is trying to gather them? Ah but that should be a tale for another time, we must keep the secret, for the surprise to be grand," Flemeth laughed, turning to the four.

She looked over Alistair, Daylen and Leliana, shaking her head at the two men, before she rested them on the red head.

"Step forward pretty thing, I think this one suits you just fine," Flemeth said.

She grinned as Leliana nervously walked forward.

"How strong is your faith?" she asked her.

"I know that you are not a god, but I believe there was a Maker," Leliana said.

Her voice, her eyes, were so full of determination. It made Flemeth laugh as she walked behind Leliana.

"I can't wait to see if that faith wavers, when you find out the truth," she said.

Despite her confusion, Leliana continued looking at the dragon as it crept closer and closer towards her.

"Remember your faith girl, remember your belief, perhaps the Maker and the force are aspects of the same coin, put your faith in them as you make the connection," Flemeth explained.

Leliana slowly, and cautiously raised her hand. The words of the witch echoed in her mind, as too did the prayers of the Chantry. Then she chanted to herself, I believe, I believe, the maker loves me, the force is with me. Slowly her eyes drifted shut, and gently, she touched the dragon's nose, rubbing the scales. When she opened her eyes, they seemed brighter, changed almost. The bard, resistance leader, Nightingale of Orlais, the sister of the chantry, moved around the dragon. It raised its wings for her and knelt. She climbed onto the dragon's back, much to the awe of her companions.

As she flew the dragon upwards, taming it, mastering it, she seemed more beautiful to the two men than she ever had been before. Her faith in the maker, in the force itself gave her more power than any Sith. As the opening salvo began, the Northern Hunter flew over the marching rebel army. Loghain looked up, raising his sword and rallying his army to yell out in triumph.

* * *

Denerim

Cailan groaned as he got out of bed. His lover for that night had left nail markings on his back. If it was anyone else it would be treason, but the Sith were as much the rulers of Thedas now as they had once been. That and there was something darkly attractive about Sith apprentices, Keili was no doubt an attractive woman. But Keili was nowhere to be found, instead there was Kaius standing over the bed. Putting on his dressing gown, Cailan moved towards the table with his food, grapes, apples, ham and cheeses, as well as wine, the kind of things Kaius didn't need to eat.

"That's unnecessary king Cailan," Kaius raised his hand in refusal.

The Sith lord walked out onto the balcony, looking across the streets filled with troopers, the bangers with the Imperial seal on them.

"Quite a party you have prepared King Cailan," Kaius said.

"It is all in celebration, we have had fifteen years of peace, save for the doomed resistance, why can't they see that this is for the best?" Cailan's question was spoken mostly to himself, so Kaius ignored him.

In truth, the Chagrian lord understood exactly why they all fought so passionately. Cailan was not stupid, he knew strategy, was educated, and he had somewhat of a ruthless mind for politics as well. But he was still very much a sheltered man, someone who did not understand the concept of imprisonment, of struggle.

"How is the guard at the gate?" Kaius asked.

"Governor Price insists on the full contingent of guards, but who would attack us on the anniversary in broad daylight?"

"The daring my king, the daring," Kaius smirked, walking away from the king.

He walked through the corridors of the castle, passing imperial droids, servants of both human, elf and Twi'lek origins. Then there was the Elite guard, the silver clad, red visored warriors, carrying pikes and holding them in front of their chests to salute him. A man in a cloaked, white uniform walked over to Kaius, not bowing, not even saluting. It was no insult, Kaius knew Governor Price as a former man of the army, a fighter, and a general, but the bearded and scarred man was tired. Kaius hoped some of his fighting spirit might get reignited, otherwise, it would be a short take over.

"We've lost contact with Lieutenant Howe's forces," he said.

"Is he a lieutenant?" Kaius asked.

"The rank changes every week, it's not as if the inflated and egotistical man actually understands rank, I called him an Inquisitor the other day and he didn't correct me," Price explained.

"You're having the guard increased, good governor, but if I were you I would draw the Riot troopers away from the Alienage and put the security forces there," Kaius said.

"They're locals, and they have blasters, commander Vaughan and his lieutenants Jonaley and Braden are also well known for their appetite for killing elves, I've had to reprimand them several times."

"Perhaps now will be a day for...poetic justice," Kaius chuckled.

"What do you mean lord Kaius?" Price asked.

Kaius suddenly stopped, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he grinned.

"You may want to check the Western gate," he said.

Price began a crisp pace down the castle corridors.

"Its begun," the Sith lord whispered.

At the Eastern gates, bored Stormtroopers wagered with one another over a game of Pazaak. Only three were focused on patrolling the ramparts. When one had his back turned, a harpoon latched onto the ledge. Cautiously he approached it, his blaster raised. Suddenly, a giant of a hand grabbed his arm and threw him over the ledge. The second trooper got a knife pierced through his eye lense, and the second met his target, who had successfully climbed up.

"You're kidding me," the trooper said, laughing at the red bearded dwarf in front of him.

Oghren let out a growl of fury, drawing the axe from his back. The trooper kept laughing, until his neck was twisted around.

"I could have handled that," Oghren said.

Sten of the Barrasad simply shrugged. He wore plates of iron armour, though had his arms exposed. Though still very much loyal to the Qun, he drew his precious sword from his back. The green clad, Antivan assassin Zevran quickly finished climbing over the rampart, throwing the body of his target over the other side. Once the three bodies were across, they signalled to the rebels below. Six Knight-troopers suddenly jumped over the rampart, their jump packs blazing. Sliding down their targeting antennas, they aimed at the guards below. Simultaneously they fired, killing the distracted guards. Cullen nodded to the three infiltrators, and they began moving down to the next gate. To differentiate themselves from any loyalists in the city, the Knight-troopers painted their armour in different ways. For Cullen, he added a lion's face to his left breast. He removed a light from his belt, flashing it at the Knight-trooper infantry. Greigor returned the signal, and both men checked their Chronometers, there was a slight delay, and a much greater need for pace now.

* * *

Kaius decided he would walk through his favourite parts of Denerim, before the fun started. He visited the library, walked amongst the markets, were normal, honest men and women tried to work free of harassment. Then there was the alienage, where the elves were trying to get on with their normal routine, knowing they could never truly enjoy themselves under the watch of Vaughan. Kaius walked past the troopers, admiring the tree that was the last bit of the elf culture they held onto. He'd always admired them, the alienage elves, they abandoned the old, outdated ways, to forge a new way. Within them also, was the potential to rebel.

Migration was common amongst space faring species. Kaius's ancestors left their home world to colonise a new one in the unknown regions. They found their new home, built a government and lives for themselves. But then the Sith came and enslaved them. Their home became nothing more than a mining colony of the empire. Kaius was born a slave, he knew struggle and abuse every day. Yet there were times of true happiness, times he spent with his father, shaping rock to form art. Then the times with his mother, listening to the memories passed down their line, of a better time, of their original home world itself. But the times that truly empowered Kaius, that truly made him the man he was today, was the times he would be punished. He became the embodiment of Chagrian defiance against slavery, whipped nearly every day.

Then Darth Vice found him, impressed with his strength, he manipulated the shift patterns of the guards, so that Kaius would have the perfect opportunity to murder the overseer. Kaius did so, earning the right in Vice's eyes to become his apprentice, even though his actual force potential was limited. But that was not the end of Kaius's struggle, it only got worse from then onwards. Vice's training regime was brutal, never hesitating to use pain as a reprimand for Kaius's failures, or even sometimes just for a hell of it. Through struggle and pain, Kaius's determination and strength only increased. In time, Vice even admitted that Kaius was a better fighter than he had been in his prime. Kaius used the force, the dark side, and the light, but was never dominated by the darkness. Nor did he try to serve the light in anyway.

Yet still he was not free, and that still made Kaius feel sad.

"PLEASE STOP!" he heard the scream of a woman.

Following the scream, and the blood lust, he saw his apprentice. Keili had dressed herself in Sith Raider armour, the uniform of a warrior. She held the red sabre of an Acolyte, someone she had obviously bullied into surrendering it to her. But what truly angered Kaius was whom his apprentice was standing over. She had already killed a blonde haired elf woman, her body was being shaken by a little elf girl, her daughter. The girl had brown hair, only a glancing resemblance to Surana. Keili raised her sabre over her head and swung it down. With a hiss, Kaius extended his own blade, catching Keili's. The sparks touched the top of the girl's head, and she shielded her mother's body. Releasing his rage, Kaius pushed Keili back, and put the sabre to her neck.

"Such a strong and great warrior you are my apprentice," Kaius snarled, squeezing Keili's hand until she dropped her sword.

"Master Kaius I..."

"Don't, I mean it, there are one or two Sith lords whom have lost themselves in the darkside, and even through their indecent and cruel acts, they remain powerful. You however my apprentice, are a simple serial killer, violence without direction, and for petty hatred will only enable you to scratch the surface of the power the force can offer you," the Sith lord explained.

He deactivated his blade and with the force picked up the acolyte's sabre.

"You wish to fight, your time will come, he will be here soon, he will start the fire," Kaius said.

"Daylen," Keili whispered.

"Yes, show him the power of the dark side, show him the strength of your passion!"

Keili took the sabre, igniting its blade and smiling in joy. The mere mention of his name, had turned her into another monster entirely. Kaius looked at the elf girl's eyes, he'd sparked something inside her too.

'Hope, you've given them hope Daylen Amell, let's see if that hope is wasted, don't disappoint me, my apprentice,' Kaius thought.

His eyes lit up in joy, as the cloud of an explosion, rose out of the centre of Denerim. From the palace balcony, Cailan looked at the cloud in horror, the rebels within the city saw it as the signal. The battle for Ferelden had begun.

Next Episode 10: The battle for Ferelden part 2: Strength in unity

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, next time, more dragons, and the fighting really starts.


	10. Episode 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

Cailan's look is based on his fully upgraded character from Heroes of Dragon Age, a game I've recently developed an addiction to :). A few other character looks are based on the game too.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 10: Strength in unity

When the explosion rocked Denerim, Cailan began to dress into his armour. He put on the hard suit, and placed the layers of gold armour over it. Each plate was smooth and decorated, on his belt were two dogs, whilst his chest plate showed the face of a dog. There was a layer of fur underneath his shoulder guards, and he wrapped a purple scarf around his neck, before he put on his helmet. Like his chest plate, the helmet had the face of a dog on it. Cailan picked up his sword, admiring it, relishing in the fact he would finally get to use it. The blade was a great sword, with a gold guard and purple handle, a paw print shape on the pommel. It had been made with a Cortosis weave, making it very effective against armour, and capable of matching light sabres.

The king felt it was a symbol of the great trust the imperial brass had placed in him. He was in charge of protecting Ferelden, it was his home and he would fight for it. Marching down to the palace courtyard, he was proud to see the members of his royal guard had already assembled. They wore the same armour most guards whom accompanied VIP's wore, except it was gold. The front formation of the guard wore the heavier armour and carried sabre staffs. Everyone other guard behind them carried shock staves and E-11 blasters, their armoured bodies covered by the gold robes they wore.

"Beyond those gates, rebels have sown disorder and chaos across the city, our duty is to keep order, but above all, protect the people. Let us go forth my brothers, FOR GLORY!" Cailan yelled.

He ran forward as the gates opened. Behind him the guards followed, eager for battle and the glory it promised. But what they found, was not rebels preying on the innocent. Instead, they saw the citizens of Denerim standing together, throwing rocks at the riot troopers. A great roar echoed in the sky, and a Ferelden Frostback flew over the city. In the distance, Cailan saw a white light sabre blade ignite, with a cross guard of all things.

* * *

Taming the Dragons-The Hinterlands

Alistair spent many years, thinking of his father and mother. He knew he was the child of two worlds, human and elf, warrior and mage. But he had accepted, or at least hoped that he would never be a king. Standing beside Daylen, Alistair was happy, that he had finally found a friend who didn't think of him as Maric's bastard, who didn't look at him as a resource. That didn't stop Flemeth however, as she took the two men, and her daughter through the Hinterlands.

"Did you know that your ancestors were Reavers boy?" she asked.

"They drank dragon's blood," Alistair said.

"Yes, despite their offspring never showing the same abilities, dragon's blood still runs through your veins," Flemeth said.

"I think I can see where this is going, you think I can tame a dragon, no offence to you old woman but the only animals I'm good with are dogs," Alistair quipped.

"Have faith in yourself Alistair, I do," Daylen said, taking the cross guard sabre out of his bag.

"It's yours," Alistair shook his head.

Not taking no for an answer, Daylen closed Alistair's fingers around the weapon.

"It's yours," the mage retorted.

Alistair wedged the device through his belt. He bowed his head in thanks to Daylen, before walking with Flemeth to the dragon's nest. The Ferelden Frostback had great yellow scales on its back and head. Alistair stood his ground as the dragon began to creep towards him and Flemeth. The dragon began to increase its pace, flapping its wings. Alistair raised his arms, shielding himself as the torrent of air rushed over him. His hand briefly touched the sabre. But then he felt it, the call of the force. He stood strong as the dragon snarled at him, and roared. Alistair's eyes crossed into a frown, a stern gaze one would use on a dog. He took a step forward, and the dragon stepped back. Belief began to take hold of Alistair, the force strengthening what he believed.

'I am the son of Maric, I am a protector of Ferelden, I have the blood of dragons,' he thought, again and again as he walked around the dragon.

Slowly, the Frostback knelt, and Alistair climbed onto its back. A smile crossed Daylen's face as he watched the dragon take flight.

* * *

Denerim Alienage

For the longest time, Alistair thought that his only responsibility to the people of Ferelden was as a soldier, as someone to punish them if they committed crimes, and keep the peace. He never judged himself as the son of a king. But diving down towards the Alienage, Alistair fully accepted his responsibility, not as a king, but someone who still had to protect his people. The force guided him, slowing his fall onto the rooftops. He saw the troopers aiming at the elves, his people. Keeping his eyes open, Alistair pulled his arm back, and threw the crossguard sabre. He focused, willing the blade to spin, willing it to his targets. It span, through the necks of several troopers, before sliding across the floor.

"Bollocks," he said to himself.

He quickly drew his pistol, taking cover as the remaining troopers began to fire at him. Alistair grit his teeth together, feeling the shots take chunks off of the roof. Vaughan continued firing his heavy pistol, the bastard beheaded Braden, he wouldn't stop until he was dead. Then he would kill the elves in the alienage, he'd say they were rioting, which wasn't completely far from the truth.

'Disgusting elves, they whine and complain, better they all be wiped out,' Vaughan thought.

He stopped firing his pistol, hearing the hum of a light sabre behind him. Suddenly, the white energy blade ripped through his chest.

Kallian Tabris pulled the sabre out of her tormentor's back. She stood firm, determined, even as the troopers aimed their blasters at her. The men and women of the alienage looked to her in concern. Her cousin had been murdered recently, she would have been the first to stand with her. But the anger over their mistreatment, was stronger than the fear. Slowly, and in perfect synch, the people of the Alienage moved together. The Frostback landed on the gate, ripping it and the troopers on it off of the ground. Alistair fired at the troopers behind the gate, and the elves ran forward. Clubs, machetes, stones, even their bare hands. They were prepared to fight for their freedom. Kallian stabbed another trooper through the chest, taking up his rifle, just like the others of her generation were.

"ELVES OF DENERIM!" Alistair yelled, climbing off of the rooftops.

He landed in a cart of hay, emerging from it as dirty as the rest of them.

"I may not be an elf, but my mother was, and I am Ferelden, which is why I stand with you. Because though we are the same people, Ferelden is our home, Thedas is our planet. It's time we took it back!"

Kallian was the first to raise her hand and roar in applause. The rest of the Alienage followed, their yells of confidence, of rebellion, could be hear across the city. She gave the cross guard sabre back to Alistair and ran behind him as they charged towards the enemy riot forces. The Frost back swooped over them, creating a cloud of fire that consumed the troopers. Those left were quickly cut down by Alistair, or beaten by the swarm of angry elves. Alistair looked up at the dragon, it would keep fighting, he however would stand with his people.

* * *

Highever

Clouds of fire rose from separate corners of the city. But at the main gate, Varric stood on a pedestal, shooting a pistol at the air.

"LISTEN UP PEOPLE OF HIGHEVER!" he yelled.

They looked at him, the troopers distracted by the chaos of the explosions.

"I'm not one of you, I'm not a Highever local, I'm not a human, but this planet is my home, like yours and that's what I'm fighting for, against those people," Varric pointed at the imperial gate guards. "I stand against those who have enslaved us under the guise of improving our day to day lives, lives they disrupt by stealing from our businesses, or just plain bullying us. I stand against those who call us savages, yet torture and execute us for simply looking at them. Stand with me, with us, stand against them if you still believe in the dream of a free Ferelden!"

At that moment, Marian and her company ran towards the city, throwing grenades into speeder bike crews. Bethany raised her hand, creating stone platforms that two Dalish elves stepped off of. As the walkers began to activate, the Dalish jumped onto their heads. Prying their hatches open, the Dalish shot their pilots with arrows and climbed inside. Then, much to the horror of the imperials, their weapons turned against them, the people rose against them, and Highever became a battleground.

From his sniping perch, Sebastian gunned down one trooper after another fleeing from the barracks. When one rifle overheated, he switched to another, looking down the scope and firing. With the flames of the factory checkpoint behind her, Tallis ran, jumping over market stalls, shooting bolts from her blasters. She ducked, avoiding the staff of a riot trooper. Grabbing the man's arm, she rolled back, breaking it, and shoving her knife through the gap in his throat. Fighters at the launching pad blew up one after another, the fuel pumps also blew up, creating a bang that knocked many of the troopers down. Isabela checked over her knives, bored slightly as the troopers groaned.

"WE NEED REINFORCEMENTS NOW!" the trooper commander yelled.

A crossbow bolt landed at his feet. He huffed in amusement, before the bolt blew up. Varric ran with a crowd behind him, looking up at the two legged walker in fear for a moment. The crowds of Highever locals ran ahead of him, and began to push at the walker. A crowd of hundreds, was enough to topple the walker. Several of the people fell to blaster fire, but the troopers were quickly overrun, screaming as they were lifted onto the shoulders of the angry citizens.

"Communications aren't going through, I guess we have old broody to thank for that, great job Fenris," Varric muttered as he got to the controls of the gate.

"Stop right there," a trooper said, pointing his rifle at Varric.

A blaster bolt suddenly flew into the man's neck. Charade nodded to Varric, who continued to push buttons on the gate console. Slowly, the gates came open, welcoming the rebels into the city.

"Hope you're okay at that communications outpost, Fenris," Varric muttered.

Fenris stood where the communication base once was. He raised his head as four members of the shadow guard approached him. They threw off their cloaks, and ignited the blades on their sabre pikes. Fenris threw his blaster to the ground, and reached into his pack. When he pulled his hand out, he ignited a purple, long bladed light sabre. With a yell, he ran towards the shadow guard.

* * *

Amaranthine

Just like Hawke's group, the party attacking Amaranthine planted explosives at key locations. Nathaniel put explosives at the tank fuel depot, just outside the city. A dwarf by the name of Sigrun, put explosives by the barracks, and a Ferelden Knight, Mhairi put explosives at the security checkpoint to the factory. They detonated the explosives, in perfect synch with the group attacking Highever. Valenna however chose a very different method to destroy the communications outpost. The magic poured from her hands, into the ground, 'asking' the roots of old trees, to grow again. The monstrous tree Valenna created burned with her magic, yet kept growing, twisting around the communication antenna, bursting through the ceiling of the outpost, filling it, crushing and suffocating the staff inside.

"Now you humans will understand the pain you've put my people through," Velanna said.

She turned to the Shadow guard members behind her. Four armoured men with sabre staffs. Velanna removed her staff from her back, running magic across its surface, strengthening the wood. The four guards rushed forward, amplifying their speed with the force. Velanna quickly commanded the roots, bringing a tree branch out of the ground, knocking two of the guards back. The other two twirled their staffs around, cutting apart the branches she summoned. Coils of lighting snaked around the roots, and the guards brought up their staffs, using the light sabre blades to absorb the electricity.

'If I fight them head on, I'll lose, but if I can overwhelm them with my magic, I might have a chance,' Velanna thought, using the roots and chaos to cover her retreat.

The Dalish keeper climbed one of the trees, hiding herself between the branches. She watched the shadow guard like a hunter stalking prey.

As Velanna engaged the shadow guard, the other resistance members fought against the confused Imperial occupants. Sigrun ran through the alleyways, throwing thermal detonators into the ranks of passing trooper patrols. She carried a whole bag of explosives, and threw them whenever she saw a trooper patrol. The duster was nimble, and not easy to hit. Mhairi then led her own troops, Ferelden men and women, with hammers, spears and swords. When the explosives hit the troopers, the Fereldens hit them as they got back up.

"Why are we having trouble with them? They're primitives," the city commander growled.

He walked on the ramparts, intending to have the cannons put on their fire on the citizens. The man scoffed at the very idea of the Ferelden resistance actually winning. But then, an arrow slid through his arm. He stumbled to the side, falling off of the ramparts and into the markets. His screams drew the attention of several troopers.

"HELP ME YOU FOOLS!" he yelled.

The medic ran over, checking the man's leg.

"Its dislocated sir," he said.

"I DON'T CARE!" the commander yelled. "KILL THEM! KILL EVERY LAST PRIMITIVE IN THIS CITY!"

Several troopers lowered their heads, then began nodding to one another. They shot the trooper beside them, or in front of them. Each 'traitor' who pulled the trigger, was a Ferelden born man or woman, deciding where their loyalties truly were. The medic raised his hands as the troopers pointed their weapons at him and the commander.

"You treacherous bastards, you'll all suffer for this, the Sith have ways of punishing traitors," the commander snarled.

"Open the gates, let the rebels into the city, everyone take off your helmets, show them that we are their people," one of the ring leaders said.

Her name was Tamra, and one of her friends, a Scout trooper called Danella immediately ran to the gate. She took off her helmet as the gates opened, raising her hands in surrender. Nathaniel walked into the city, his city and bowed to his people.

"I'm sorry the Howes have often mistreated you, but I swear to you all, I won't abandon you again," he vowed, and with the resistance at his back, those citizens of Amaranthine whom braved going out, were proud to believe him.

* * *

South Reach

Leliana swooped down on the imperial forces with her dragon. She jumped off of its back, knocking back and firing an arrow into an officer's neck. Lightning chained the troopers, followed by the smashing of helmets, and the spray of blood from blades. Amund of the Avvar brought his great maul down on the chest of a trooper. Kolgrim, a Reaver and Andrastian fanatic, was coated in the blood of his enemies, furthering the sinister appearance of his armour. His helmet covered his face, it's very shape, as well as the curves and spikes of his armour made him look more like a demon than a knight. With a swing of his battle axe, he literally disarmed a trooper with a heavy repeater. His ally, Eirik, also clad in the full armour of the cult, swung his staff in a wide arc, creating a ditch that trapped several troopers. Andraste cultists, Avvar barbarians and even Dalish elves then moved to the trench, shooting at the coverless troopers inside it.

'This is war, it is foul, not romantic as anti-imperial campaigners would say, those men and women whom claim to follow the true faith, have no idea, but this is necessary,' Leliana told herself.

The dragon came down again, crushing and electrocuting some of the troopers, before Leliana climbed onto its back again. She left behind a blood bath of both her enemies and allies, with only the most ruthless surviving.

* * *

Denerim

When Loghain ran through the gates, he was greeted with blaster fire. His sworn shields held their ground, firing back, but quickly falling. One man after another moved in front of Loghain, charging with him, protecting him. Or at least, they seemed to be. As they got closer and closer to the formation of Stormtroopers, their lines began to crumble. But still they moved forward, one man shielding the other. Loghain raised his sword, using it as a shield, bolts deflecting off of the hard material. This sword was dwarven crafted, from some of the hardest metals in Thedas, a match for any light sabre. But when the rebels managed to get within feet of the troopers, they slid to a halt.

"NOW!" Loghain yelled.

His formation began to move, each soldier in front clearing the way, so that the people they were hiding in the middle of the formation could move ahead. The mages of the circle raised their staves, and threw their focused spells forward. Balls of fire were thrown at the troopers, throwing them off of the ground. Rock fists bashed them, sending them flying backwards. Lightning surged through them.

"DRAW! LOOSE!" the general threw his arm forward, and the archers fired, hitting the joints of the trooper's armour.

A line of mages slammed their staves into the ground, trapping the troopers with ice, paralysis runes, and rocks. People looked outside their windows, and saw Loghain, the hero who helped liberate them from Orlais, fighting against the new tyrannical oppressors. Fires were lit, not just of magic and ruin, but of determination. That dream that Ferelden once had, was reawakened. The troopers still standing backed away from the Ferelden knights and mages, and trailed their rifles, confused as the people began to exit their homes, carrying clubs, pans, knives, or any kind of make shift weapon. They were no true threat, but the unity alone was enough to fill the imperial forces with fear.

"FORWARD!" Loghain yelled.

The mages unleashed their mana bolts, hitting the troopers with barrages of attacks faster than a blaster bolt. Loghain, Anora and Cauthrien raised their swords over their heads as they charged forward. Blades cleaved through armour, and blood sprayed across the ground, and people would remember forever, the day all in Ferelden stood together. The day many arrows, overcame a few blasters.

* * *

ISSD (Imperial Super Star Destroyer) Hunter

Within the metallic chamber, the ceiling, decorated by the mysterious image of a squid like creature, was the grand command chair. When sitting on it, the equally mysterious hooded man, could communicate with every ship in the occupation fleet. His armoured fingers were crossed together as he sat back, the holographic forms of Darths Lumaya, Asher and numerous Sith Lords were displayed in front of him, most of the lords were human, though there was a silver skinned Zabrak, a Bith, two Togrutas and even a Hutt, a massive worm like species.

"Darth Kaius has not established contact, and there is a disturbance in the force," Lumaya said.

"You are closest to it after all Lady Lumaya, is it possible you've caused some disturbances of your own?" Asher asked.

"No more a disturbance than the kind you've caused," Lumaya retorted.

A chorus of outraged yells, and laughs of agreement, echoed from the holograms. Their amusement and anger filled the hall, until the hooded man cleared his throat. Then, the other Sith Lords grew silent, none daring to speak until the hooded man did.

"Kaius is carrying out his own plans, a gamble, and a betrayal of the empire," he said.

"A betrayal, could it be an attempt at a coup?" one of the human lords asked.

 _"Is he helping the rebels?"_ the Hutt inquired in his own language, those who didn't understand had their protocol droids translate.

"Perhaps he may be attempting to re-enact what the traitorous Bane did, he bragged to me once that he had picked an apprentice," the Zabrak Sith lord said.

"The rule of two, such an order doesn't prevent betrayal but guarantees it," said one of the Togrutas.

All of the talking began to grow silent as the hooded man raised his hand. He stood up, clicking his fingers, the projectors showing the Sith lords began to move. The room itself had numerous mechanisms, enabling the command chair to manipulate it. The holographic projectors circled the command chair, which then disconnected from the ground and began to levitate. Part of the floor rotated, and then rose, the floor panels sliding apart to reveal a holographic projector. An image of a planet then appeared.

"Thedas, it is wider than its own people can imagine, yet they are not to be underestimated. Worlds we try to take, would be able to keep us at bay indefinitely, if the indigenous species put aside their cultural difference and unify. Unity is their strength, it should be ours as well. The great advantage that we have, is that we are bigger than they have fully realised. If Kaius is moving against us, against the empire in anyway, then I suspect, force be willing, retribution will come for him," the hooded man explained.

"Why do you say that?" Asher asked.

"I felt, a shiver in the force, something that at the time seemed benign, we must be aware of this shiver. I suspect it will either be the greatest threat to our plans, or a good replacement for Kaius," the hooded man said.

"Speaking of our plans, how goes the weapon?" Lumaya asked.

"I will receive a report from the Moff soon, all of you, continue your duties at your designated zones, and be mindful of the shiver."

The room began to shift back into a dull, clear floored state. Getting off of his command chair, the hooded man passed Plagueis and Tenebrous.

"This Shiver in the force, I think I know whom you refer to," the Bith lord said.

Plagueis removed a holo from his robes, bringing up the image of a boy in circle mage robes.

"Daylen Amell, exemplary magical ability, broad imagination and open mindedness, unknown to the natives, most of this is owed to the fact that he has a photographic memory," he listed.

"Yet I have tested every Phaelactery on the planet, of the mages in Ferelden, Amell's blood shows a lack of midichlorians, none in fact, which if he were to truly be force sensitive would be impossible. Of all the mages only Nelia Surana shows a Midichlorian count of any impressive value," Tenebrous explained.

"The problem both of you have is that you only see the scientific point of view, whoever, whatever Amell is, he may be a simple accidental contradiction, or he is the embodiment of the mystery of the force, a conundrum willed by the force to put those who would try to master it in their place."

"Back to this again, you're not a very good Sith lord if you won't try to take dominion over the force," Plagueis said.

"Your problem especially my friend, is that you have no respect for the force, have you ever considered why the Sith have failed time and time again to keep their domination over the galaxy?" the hooded man asked.

"Infighting," Tenebrous said.

"Yes, the old Sith order, is not enough, the rule of two, a guarantee of betrayal, but...the rule of all!"

"Unity though can be a weakness," Plagueis said.

"All power is a double edged sword," the hooded man retorted.

The three lords of the Sith turned to the entrance to the chamber. Two Shadow guards flanked a man in an imperial officer uniform. He was skinny, and had an almost skeletal like shape to his face.

"Moff Uclas, how goes the production?" Tenebrous asked.

"We will be ready for a test of the weapon soon my lords," the man said, bowing his head.

The hooded man nodded his head, motioning for the man to leave. He then removed a holo from his robes and turned it on, forming the image of a woman in an imperial intelligence uniform. Her eyes and skin hue indicated she was Chiss.

"My lord, you wanted to be updated when I found something," she said.

"What have you found?" he asked.

"It's as you suspected my lord, I have a shuttle ready in the hanger," the Chiss girl said.

"Very well, I will be there soon."

"Where are you going?" Plagueis asked.

"The weapon's test will be soon," Tenebrous said.

"I will leave that to the both of you," the hooded man put his holo projector back in his robe pocket.

Swinging his cloak around, he walked away from the two Sith lords. Soon, he was sitting in the passenger seat of an imperial shuttle, the Chiss agent piloting it. He had a window view of the planet, and the satellite orbiting it. His thoughts drifted to the battle he sensed taking place on the surface, to the great fire that would soon be ignited across the galaxy. Through the force, he projected his thoughts down to fort Drakon, to the Chagrian lord standing on the top floor. Kaius smirked, feeling the presence of the Sith lord.

"You're not being a very good commander, why haven't you dispatched forces?" he asked.

"Because I know you aren't making the battle easy for them, besides, if I do dispatch a star destroyer, I'll leave the weapon unguarded, intelligence confirmed that the resistance does have fighters," the hooded man explained.

"Indeed, I do have a plan, a test of my apprentice's capabilities, you know my standards in apprentices," Kaius said.

"It is more than that Kaius, you don't want to make this impossible for him, for Daylen Amell!"

"You know my past, you know why Darth Vice chose me as his apprentice?" Kaius asked.

"Yes I do, because you were the most defiant, because you never let go of your hatred for the empire," the hooded man said.

"No, I haven't, I agree with your plans for the empire, this will aid you. But ultimately it is my plan, not yours!"

"You realise that if you succeed, you will die?"

"The price of freedom is high," Kaius said, smiling as he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

The hooded man remained silent for a moment. But with respect, he bowed his head and regarded the Chagrian with his original name.

"May the force be with you Kailius, free man of the empire!"

The image of the hooded man faded and Kaius smiled, turning to Keili.

"Who was that master?" she asked.

"A man older than your world, he has many names in the empire, his true name he has never spoken to anyone. Come now Keili, focus on the battle, we don't want to miss it," Kaius said.

"Miss what master?"

The Chagrian smirked as he looked down at the battle.

"How Daylen stops the golems!"

Next Episode 11: The battle for Ferelden part 3: IT'S A TRAP!

* * *

Next time, Branka leads golems on the Ferelden resistance, plus will Daylen master his own dragon? Or will he choose a path Flemeth does not expect?


	11. Episode 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

The texts with _ in them are censored words and names that are omitted from Daylen's visions.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 11: It's a trap

Fen hugged his father's leg, keeping close to him as they watched the Orzammar Garrison begin to march. The Stormtroopers were following an army of golems, powerful giants of stone and metal. At the back, mounted on the turret of a tank, was Branka, the one dwarven Paragon who rediscovered the anvil of the void. Fen blinked in confusion as his father, took his hand and led him away from the crowd.

"We have no interest in such things," the man said.

"But..."

"What happens to this world, doesn't affect us, it will move on, empires will rise and fall, this rebellion may win the day, but it will not be righteous my son," the bald elf knelt in front of his son and hugged him.

They walked back to their tent. But when they got there, their wife and mother wasn't there. The bald elf looked at the note on his lover's bunk.

 _"I am sorry!"_

 _"Let me make that clear, nothing you or Fen have done has made me leave. I've made a choice my love, I can't put up with the tyranny of the empire any longer. I know you won't approve, I know that if I talked to you about it, you would have come out with a lecture about how one day the empire and the rebellion will be no different from one another, that nothing will change, and you'll sound reasonable and convinced. But the man I fell in love with, had hope in his heart."_

 _"That's why I have gone Solas, because I haven't given up hope yet."_

 _"Yours Ma Vhenan, forever more, Ellana Lavellan!"_

 _"PS, tell Fen his full name, let him decide for himself whether he can be proud of our heritage."_

Solas crumpled the letter up and put the fist to his heart. He took a deep breath, his eyes red from holding the tears in.

"Daddy, where has mummy gone?" Fen asked.

"Brave fools, the brave...are always...the first to die!"

* * *

Wynn looked across the great distance with her binoculars. The children of the tower were at her side. Conner tugged at her robe, wanting to get a better look. She hushed him and kept on analysing the course of the battle. The cult of Andraste had taken position within a trench, Leliana's dragon was strafing the enemy forces, hitting them with electricity. From the direction of Highever and Amaranthine, Wynn could see the werewolf and Sylvans holding their own against the two city reinforcement units.

"Enchanter Wynn, are they going to lose?" Conner asked.

"Right now we've lost the element of surprise, the commanders are rallying the enemy forces, stay here," she explained to the boy, before running to the camp.

Speeders, horses and carts, even werewolves, had run back with wounded. Volunteers who couldn't fight, did what they could with direction from Wynn and the other more academic mages. The Dalish second Lanaya was stitching wounds with her magic. A man known only as Stitches was using poultices, and other medicines to disinfect and bandage wounds. He amputated the leg of one soldier who had had it crushed by a walker. Wynn however called deep within herself, to the spirit inside her, to tip people away from the edge of death.

The Chantry/Resistance offered little in the way of medical help and supplies. It all came from volunteers, like Kaitlyn and Bella, two girls from Redcliffe who bought supplies from the village too. Others included apostates from the Hinterlands and even people from the Avaar or Chasind. Food and most of the medical supplies were provided by the Dryden family, whom also bought the most volunteers.

"Mi'lady, can they win?" a soldier asked Wynn.

He had scorch markings on the side of his face. Herbs kept the pain from consuming him. But it wasn't the pain killers that made him smile, it was something else, at least Wynn liked to believe that.

"I don't know war, but I do know the person leading this assault, I know him," Wynn said.

She noticed quickly that others, the wounded, even the dying, were listening to her. They all wanted to hear about the man who inspired all of this, the man who freed the tower.

'The man who isn't even here to lead us,' Wynn thought bitterly, then reminded herself there was a reason for it.

Then she also reminded herself, of the importance of faith. The resistance, whom called themselves the true faith, had offered prayer, yet no true solution. It was a man who did something, who offered the people more than just words.

"Daylen Amell, I believe was not meant for this time, he thinks in a way most others don't, yet there is understanding in him. He doesn't believe in the maker, yet I have never seen him question a person's faith in their god. He's capable of outrage, yet never have I heard him lecture someone on their actions and belief. When he came to the tower, I could see there was no childish innocence within him, yet there were times he was capable of being so innocent. I thought of him as a contradiction, or felt he was acting, but no. He's someone who genuinely seeks to be the best person he can be, and to hopefully, inspire others to be as good as they can be."

She raised her head and smiled, she always felt empowered by the spirit of hope that prolonged her life. Yet hope shined brightest in the presence of men and women, whom inspired it.

"He is a man who is willing to compromise, but not who we are, that is his greatest strength, to bear the pain of sacrifice and to never truly compromise."

* * *

 **Becoming a dragon**

Daylen continued following Flemeth and Morrigan, the daughter and mother pairing took their time in enacting their ritual. Morrigan had her hood over her head, her staff on the ground, legs crossed in meditation. The light sabre handles she possessed were also laid out in front of her. Flemeth also had her legs crossed in meditation, and reached out to touch her daughter's cheeks, pricking them with her gauntlets.

"You were never in any danger from me child," she said.

"Mother," Morrigan whispered, her eyes, and voice filled with awe, something Daylen presumed she was unaccustomed to.

Morrigan picked up the light sabres, clipped them to her belt, and left her staff behind. She walked past Daylen, her eyes beginning to glow white, elvhan marks appearing across her face. Flemeth then stood and smiled as Morrigan body was suddenly covered in a white light. Her body began to grow, wings protruded from her back, as her limbs and neck stretched, growing thicker. Horns grew from her head, curving as her jaw expanded. When the white light faded, Morrigan spread her wings, her red scales shining as she roared, revelling in the raw power of her new form. She stampeded across the fields, flapping her huge wings. Then she took flight, roaring again to announce her presence in the sky.

"She could have assumed that form without your help," Daylen said.

"What makes you say that child?" Flemeth asked.

"There's nothing special, or godly about it, it's merely an extension of your shape shifting abilities, you turn into animals because you know them, every intimate detail about them, you simply use that memory, or imagination in conjunction with your mana, if you have enough mana, you can change, that's what your ritual there was about, you were mentally exchanging the information, and transferring enough of your mana into her," he explained.

A surprised, but never the less impressed expression crossed Flemeth's face. She grinned, clapping her hands together as she approached Daylen.

"Well done, I don't think I've ever met a human with an understanding of magic like you, this must be more than just the teachings of the circle," she said.

"I can see things, patterns, every spell has a pattern, every magic has a path you can take to achieve it," Daylen said.

"Choosing the path others offer you, blinds you to alternatives, this is something your friends didn't understand. The red haired girl's reliance on a nonexistent god, and the boy's idealised memory of his ancestors. Even my daughter is reliant on my teachings, I gave her an approach to life," Flemeth explained.

"One could argue that that is what every parent does, that our views on morality and life are simply passed down from one generation to another. I however believe differently, we're all changing, we can become better, if we try!"

"But can you win?" the old god asked.

"I'll certainly try," Daylen said.

He turned around and began to walk away, only for Flemeth to suddenly appear in front of him.

"Without a dragon, what do you think you will be able to accomplish?" she asked.

"I can't control a dragon, Leliana could because of her absolute faith in the force, it enabled her to make a connection to the dragon and control it. Alistair, through the force too, came to accept his ancestry and the dragon's blood within him. Your daughter got some of your mana, but at the same time, despite your words about not harming her, you've put her under a geass, a form of enslavement," Daylen explained.

"From a certain point of view," Flemeth laughed.

"Of course, but what is to stop you from using that geass to control her actions? This rebellion is pointless if we trade one dictatorship for another."

"Child, that is all rebellion is," Flemeth huffed.

"Maybe in your experience, but there's always a chance that things will be different. You've given us enough power to win this battle, which is all we will need to do to put the rebellion on the map. We won't rely on you afterwards," Daylen said.

Flemeth was again impressed, if slightly amused by Daylen's stubborn pride. His eyes had a determination in them she had not seen since the time of the Evanuris. Looking at him, reminded her of her husband, the supposed all father of the elves, and her best friend Fen'harel the dread wolf. The wolf was prideful, but determined to perfect their society, so that they were free of all forms of slavery. But his friend and Flemeth's love, disagreed, believing that people needed a stern hand, that the common masses needed gods.

Once they had fought a war against tyranny, then they ultimately became the tyrants, even Flemeth/Mythal had come to the realisation that her justice was cruel. She grinned and laughed internally at the memory, of what her fellow Evanuris tried to do when humanity arrived. The imperials had not yet painted a full picture of that time. Yet she sensed that somewhere within the recesses of the boy mage's mind, he was creating, bit by bit, with each experience, a way to live and a way to rule. A way that would save everyone, an impossibility in Flemeth's experience.

"You won't accept the gift of the dragon, let me grant you something else then," Flemeth's eyes glowed white as she raised her hand.

Daylen braced himself, as a purple orb appeared in Flemeth's hand. She squeezed it, shattering it like glass. Then, everything around Daylen went white.

He lowered his hands, and adjusted his eyes to what was in front of him, and around him. The scenery continually shifted, patches of ground floated upside down above him, lightning crackled in the air, striking upwards instead of downwards. Then there was the haze, it was like a yellow mist that highlighted everything around him. A lake was in front of him, and when Daylen stepped on it, he didn't go through it. Yet, it still felt wet on his feet as he walked on it.

"The Fade," he identified the place.

"Fancy seeing you here," a voice said from the end of the lake, on the shore.

Daylen continued walking, seeing the mouse waiting for him. The mouse suddenly grew, turning into a blonde haired man in a brown and red mages robe. He crossed his arms together, smirking as Daylen passed him. They had crossed paths before, when Daylen took his harrowing. For though the man took on the form of a mouse, his power was not befitting the form, nor even befitting the form he took as he walked with Daylen. He was a demon, the most powerful kind of them all, a demon of Pride. Though during his harrowing, Daylen came to call him Mouse.

"Flemeth, Mythal, there's a woman you would have been better off not crossing," Mouse said.

"What do you know about her?" Daylen asked.

"Formerly an embodiment of justice, and history didn't treat her quite so well, a folk tale, a ghost story, a warning to mages and those whom would consort with my kind, a god to be worshipped, or hated, a woman whom became inflated with her own power and authority," Mouse's head bopped along as he spoke, walking casually with Daylen.

The demon whistled as they saw a star destroyer in the sky, but it was see through, ghostly images of crew men walked through the corridors. A new path formed before them like a bridge, one Daylen walked down. He looked over his shoulder, to see Mouse still following him.

"What do the spirits think of the empire?" Daylen asked, out of curiosity.

"The more obsessed, less sentient of us have opinions directed towards their individual emotions. Justices are split between the empire invoking lawful order and heinous crimes. Compassion generally agrees that the empire is cruel, although there are a few exceptions, the cruel to be kind. Sloths aren't bothered so long as their slumbers aren't interrupted, rage will be pissed no matter what they do, several Desires want to be the new Sith lords and as for Prides well, I find them...interesting," Mouse explained.

"What about the force, is there any connection to the fade?"

"None whatsoever, well," he corrected himself, stopping and putting a hand to his chin. "Before the Sith arrived there was only people with high spatial awareness, good instinct and character judges, never any talk or even existence of the force. It's as if the Sith broke a barrier around your planet, that welcomed in the force."

"You mean none of us would have been able to draw on the force if not for the Sith?" Daylen asked, turning to face Mouse in shock.

"With knowledge comes power, particularly the power of understanding, the Sith gave you knowledge and from that knowledge, many people were able to figure out how to use the force," Mouse said.

"No, you said that the force wasn't here until the Sith arrived."

"I don't have all the answers," the demon shrugged his shoulders.

He looked at Daylen, curious about the shocked expression on the young mage's face.

"What?" he asked.

"You just admitted you don't have all the answers," Daylen said.

"Of course I did, oh, you mean it would have been more prideful to claim to know everything. There's nothing prideful about that, it's only foolishness that makes men, and spirit alike claim that they have all of the answers," Mouse explained.

"A spirit doesn't admit fault, it strives to embody that which it represents!"

"A text book description of a spirit, but do you truly believe that?" Mouse asked.

"No, I believe any thinking creature, spirit or physical, is capable of change."

Mouse then laughed, hanging his head back.

"A good answer, I knew I found you interesting for a reason," he said.

They continued walking, down the ever stretching bridge, until the 'continent' they had come from was too far to see. Suddenly, a new continent appeared, coming together as if someone put it together by hand. Ghostly figures of green and orange floated around them, voices echoing from them.

 _"This was the birth place of our order, this is where we reform the _ order."_

It was a woman's voice, and as it spoke Daylen saw the scenery shift, from the rocks, to beautiful trees and falls. Little wisps' appeared around the spirits, darting around them as they waved blades of light around.

 _"Age should be irrelevant at this time, let us bring in the young and the old, and the married too. Darth _ may have been influenced by his passion for _ but I still believe that it may have saved him, if he made a different choice."_

Daylen looked over the edge of the continent, down the bridge he had walked up. He hadn't been walking ahead, but up, seemingly higher than the tower, but height wasn't always clear in the fade. The fade was perhaps showing him its equivalent of a galaxy far, far away. Again there was a shift, and the rocks reappeared, but they formed great structures, taller than any castle, and the stones flew about, speeder like sounds humming from them. Then there was the spirits, they floated around one another.

 _"I pleased to assume the position of chancellor, and to welcome back to the _ the grand master of the _ order, may they protect the _, as they have for a thousand years."_

"They're trying to say something, why can't they say certain words?" Daylen asked.

"Through the force, the spirits re-enact events from galaxies away, it's the new thing in the fade," Mouse chuckled.

"Are they enacting the past, or the future?"

"Time isn't an issue for us, perhaps to some species it isn't either. Keep watching Daylen," Mouse said, pointing to the spirits, their movements became much more erratic.

 _"Order, order, _ assures me that clan _ actions had nothing to do with _. And if systems wish to leave, they can, but they can no longer consider themselves part of the_."_

 _"They spread through our system, taking our worlds, they all had the same face."_

 _"We are seeing a new _ war, us joining the last time is what led to the fall of _."_

 _"No, not like last time, difficult to see, the future is. Begun this _ war has!"_

Daylen felt a shiver run down his spine as the scenery shifted again and again. The temperature shifted, the air shifted, but every scene showed the same thing, spirits enacting great battles. Light and darkness, the effect of day becoming night, passed again and again as if the fade itself was blinking.

 _"No longer will we be part of the _!"_

 _"No longer will we be part of the _ order!"_

 _"We follow our own path, not the dictates of the council."_

Then one by one, the spirits began to fade, as the Fade itself became chaotic, rivers of burning lava splashed around Daylen, who gripped his head as it ached.

 _"At last we will reveal ourselves to the _, at last we will have our revenge!"_

 _"NOOO!"_

He grit his teeth together, the pain getting worse. The spirits themselves writhed in pain as insane, no evil, laughter echoed across the Fade.

 _"Stop this please, you're a good person _, we left the order together, please come with me, let's just stay away from it all, help me raise our child."_

 _"You're willing to forgive them, what if Darth _ himself was here, that bastard betrayed his friends, he and his empire nearly brought an end to our way of life."_

 _"You've fallen down the same path!"_

 _"In my opinion the _ have fallen!"_

 _"It's over _, I have the high ground!"_

Daylen bought his hands away from his head, screaming as his skin began to bubble. Flames swept over his body, and he fell to his knees in agony.

 _"You were my brother _."_

 _"I HATE YOU!"_

Daylen let out long, pained breaths as the flames disappeared. He patted his body, checking his skin for any burn marks. His clothes were still there, and there were no scars on his face, save for the one on his eye. He sunk slightly, and felt the ground beneath him. It was sand, and several suns shined in the sky.

 _"Well the force, is what gives a _ his power. It is an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us, it binds the galaxy together."_

 _"There's nothing for me here now, I want to learn the ways of the force and become a _ like my father, and mother!"_

"I feel, sadness, but, also hope," Daylen said.

"Hope can only exist in sadness," Mouse said.

"The galaxy, its bigger than we can begin to imagine isn't it?"

"My boy, the galaxy is much like the fade, there is no limit," a voice echoed through the air.

Suddenly, the sand, the very ground beneath Daylen's feet disappeared. He fell back, feeling himself go through water of some kind, then through the air, then through the water again. Daylen looked down, seeing the ground he was careening towards. Suddenly he stopped, his face inches from the ground. He touched it with his finger, then suddenly slammed back first. Mouse crawled out of a hole in his signature form, turning back to human form and laughing.

"Impressive fall, and an impressive rise," he said as he stood up.

"Why have you brought me here Flemeth?" Daylen demanded.

"To educate you, the force is real, the galaxy is bigger than you believe, why haven't you fallen because of this knowledge?" Flemeth asked, her voice echoing across the Fade.

"I never believed that the galaxy was small, nor do I doubt that the force is real. But I will not bow down and become enslaved by this knowledge, knowledge is supposed to set you free," Daylen explained.

"But it hasn't," a voice spoke, ahead of Daylen.

The ground shifted, becoming the halls of the tower. Ahead of Daylen, a mage appeared, his staff tapping against the ground with every step he took. His robes were grey and green, and his grey hair was bushy. He stopped in front of Daylen, forming a fireball in his hand.

"Keep your wits about you," said the form of Irving.

* * *

Ellana whispered to her Halla, urging her to run faster. She rode across the plains, the army of golems behind her. Then she saw it, the rebel army, the cult of Andraste. She drew her staff and released a fireball that exploded in the air.

"GOLEMS! GOLEMS INCOMING!" she yelled, riding around the army.

The apostates and cultists widened their eyes in shock over the news. Ellana rode again, making her way across the great plain, towards her own people and their mystical allies. Again she yelled, warning them of the incoming golems. From the skies, Leliana saw them too, bringing her dragon downwards, jumping into the Dalish and werewolf ranks.

"It's true, they're slow, but the golems are leading imperial reinforcements," she said.

She mounted the dragon again, and again confirmed Ellana's warnings to the cultist army. Flying to the city, she had her dragon electrocute the troopers on the city ramparts, before she caught sight of Loghain. He and his soldiers were pinned, using abandoned houses as cover, as imperial troopers fired at them. Landing her dragon on the imperials, Leliana slid off his tail and ran to the rebels.

"Golems from Orzammar are coming, they may split and head towards Highever and Amaranthine," she said.

Loghain walked away from the window. Removing his helmet and putting it on a table, where a map had been set up.

"Get to Alistair, get him to have his Frostback burn a trench across this area," the general ran his finger across the area on the map. "The trench has to be there before the enemy reinforcements have passed that point. You get to the relief forces and get them to this clearing, it overlooks where the golems might go if the trench does its job. ANORA! Where are the charges?"

"Here father," Anora said, lifting a bag onto the table.

"Careful, young lady, you need to get these to the relief forces, have them bombard those golems with every explosive in this bag and then get the hell out of there if they can. Then you go to Amaranthine and help Cousland take the Vigil," Loghain explained.

Leliana nodded her head, before running back to her dragon. She mounted the beast, taking off. Once she had flew around the city, she began scanning the streets for any sign of Alistair. She found him, toppling imperial barriers with the elves. When she was low enough, she jumped from the dragon, landing near Alistair. She drew her knives, slashing the throats of two troopers, before she ran to Alistair. He had his sabre raised, stopping as he saw Leliana.

"You need to be on your dragon now, get in the sky, follow this plan," she said.

Alistair looked at the map, immediately understanding the plan. Any hesitation he had was undermined by the knowledge of the golems. He deactivated his sabre and looked towards the elf ring leader, Tabris.

"Take this, lead our people forward until they meet with the templars," he said.

Tabris nodded her head, taking the sabre and igniting it, admiring the blade.

"Keep going, don't stop until we hit the main square, we need to take the markets," she rallied her fellow elves.

Alistair let out a sharp whistle, also concentrating on his dragon's blood. The Frostback swooped downwards, and Alistair took a hold of its leg. Side by side the dragon's flew, catching a glimpse of the red dragon form of Morrigan.

"By the maker," Alistair gasped, seeing the grand legion of golems.

Leliana and Alistair closed their eyes, trusting in the force, yet commanding it at the same time. Through it they connected with their beasts, and even Morrigan. Sparks ran across her scales, whilst fire welled in the bellies of the dragons. Morrigan flew forward, Leliana's dragon flew to the right, and Alistair's to the left. As they passed over the golems, they released powerful blasts of fire. Like beams they slammed into the ground, burning a line around the front edges of the legion, whilst Morrigan burnt a line through the middle.

"REFORM THE RANKS!" Branka yelled.

Alistair brought his dragon back around, releasing a blast into the ground, matching the line Loghain drew on the map. The golems could not climb over the trench, their forces were split and would have to walk on the path Loghain had predicted. But the dragons had also bought extra time for the relief forces. These relief forces, led by Aemon's brother, Teagan, were already on a hilltop. They included Ferelden soldiers and Ash warriors, but also volunteers like Lily. The young woman thought of Jowan as she adjusted her horse's reins.

"I hope your friend has not let you down beloved," she whispered.

* * *

 **The fade-Memories**

 **(Dragon Age Inquisition OST-Battle for Haven)**

Fire was blazing around him, and through him. The very area he stood in was shaped like the circle tower. The fade itself recreated the places he grew up in, and burnt them. All of it to taunt him, the copy of Irving continually firing spells and words of doubt at him. Mouse however looked on, grinning ear to ear as Daylen ran, ducked, and shielded himself with barriers. He did anything he could to defend himself against the copy, whose spells were just as powerful as the real Irving's used to be.

"You're leading your friends to their deaths Daylen, you must know that," 'Irving' said.

He tapped his staff against the ground, creating pillars that knocked Daylen into the air. Covering himself with rock armour, Daylen cushioned his fall, but still felt the sting of it. He got off the floor, rolling to side to dodge a fireball. The copy kept walking towards him, throwing blast and blast that Daylen absorbed with his barrier. He felt the sting of the magic even through the bubble. 'Irving' then released a blast of ice from his hand. Fire quickly blazed around Daylen's hands as he threw them forward. The blasts collided, Daylen pushing with both hands, his back bent and feet grinding against the floor. His teacher's copy however stayed in one place, keeping one hand raised.

"Never in all my years as first enchanter, did I ever see a mage of your potential for raw power," the copy stated, not even distracted by the flames.

Daylen quickly dived to the side, dodging the trail of ice left where he once stood. He quickly reached into his belt, uncorking two mana potions and downing them. Much like Irving used to, the demon shook his head in disappointment, but Daylen kept reminding himself that it wasn't Irving. The subtle form of the tranquil symbol burnt itself into the copy's forehead.

"I have nothing to feel guilty for, it was Uldred who had Irving made tranquil," Daylen said. "You also don't need to remind me of what Irving would be saying, I know what he would be saying. He believed in the towers, even through the atrocities, he believed that we had a purpose," he stood his ground, conjuring a barrier as the copy crashed lightning down on him.

"Our power has a purpose, that's what Irving believed. Even if I broke away from the tower, I know, without shred of doubt, that he would never have lost faith in me," he reiterated.

Darkness suddenly swept over the copy, altering the demon's form. He turned into the black armoured form of a Sith trooper. Removing a device from his belt, he threw it at Daylen's feet. In an instant, Daylen threw himself to the side in a reckless attempt to save himself. But the explosion from the thermal threw him across the dirt. Dirt, Daylen reminded himself, once again the Fade changed, he was in the forest.

"Your power has a purpose, to kill, just like mine," the Sith trooper spoke in a voice that wasn't Irving's.

The demon fired its conjured rifle, with every bit of skill the trooper had. Daylen rolled and jumped across the dirt, drawing on the arcane warrior arts. His speed increased, but he also 'ported' across the area. A lack of mana took its toll and Daylen was forced to run from another thermal detonator. Again he was thrown from his feet, this time rolling involuntarily across the grass.

"I killed whoever I was told to kill, rebels, innocents, I probably enjoyed it or probably didn't, you didn't know anything yet you took action."

Anger quickened the pace of Daylen's heart. It wasn't the accusations, it was the mockery of those people. He stretched his right arm out, holding the wrist with his other hand. Gathering his slowly recharged mana, he drew from it, but he didn't stop there. Most mages stopped at what their teachers had them practice, Daylen however was more like an apostate, with imagination. The mana appeared in front of him, taking on a shape, like a blanket fluttering in the wind.

"WHAT RIGHT DID YOU HAVE!" the copy yelled.

He fired his rifle, releasing a torrent of blaster fire. The red bolts bombarded the shield Daylen made. Six shots, then ten, before the shield broke. A bolt struck Daylen's shoulder, and a second one hit his outstretched palm. His shoulder pad burned, as had his glove and hand. In an instant, the trooper was flying forward, the fluttering of a cloak preceded his change. When his change was complete, he ignited a red light sabre, the sabre of Theron.

"Humanity built itself up from scavenging on our knowledge," the Theron copy snarled as he approached.

A mana sword formed in Daylen's hand, shorter than the kind most full Knight-Enchanters could make. He blocked the copy's sabre strike, his hands shaking as the more experienced swordsman tried to make him lose balance. Daylen barely managed to parry the follow up strike, when the copy pushed him with the force. Then he followed up again, swing the sabre and shattering Daylen's sword. Running back to avoid the thrust of Theron's sword, Daylen conjured another one and hit the dead acolyte across the face.

"Now," the demon snarled, hitting Daylen's weapon again and again.

With each strike, the light from the magic faded, becoming like a piece of glass in Daylen's hand.

"You're going to build your rebellion up from a mountain of bodies, the bodies of your enemies, and of your friends," he raised his voice with each statement, pushing Daylen back further and further.

"I know the risk I'm taking, I know the risk," the young mage spoke more to himself than the demon.

He was tired, sweat was running down his face and his hand had gone limp.

"It's not that I don't recognise the reality, of what I've set out to do," he huffed and puffed, each word a struggle. "I know that people are going to die, yet still I move forward, rejecting that idea, I'm going to try, to keep trying, to find the best way forward," but his eyes still remained determined.

 **(End Track)**

 **(Fate/Stay Night-Emiya theme)**

Theron ran forward again, swinging his sabre downwards. Daylen conjured another sword, this time it was the same size and length fully trained and appointed Knight-Enchanters used. He locked the blade with the sabre, sparks running across the floor, both their faces illuminated.

"You say this now, but what about the future? After so many battles, after so many fights, after you have led your friends and those you swore to protect to as many loses as gains, what will you do then? What will you become?" the demon asked, his face suddenly changing to Daylen's, his eyes instead yellow.

A red mana blade materialised in his hand, and he stabbed it into Daylen's leg. Then he threw Daylen over his shoulder, launching him a few feet away. The copy of Daylen smirked uncharacteristically. But that smirk shifted into horror as once again, with great difficulty, Daylen stood.

The demon had asked a question, and he provided an answer:

"A killer, a hypocrite, probably as far from being a hero as I can be, but I won't give up," he began to limp forward, summoning a sword, except this time it was a physical one.

"You stubborn, prideful fool," the demon's accusation put a smile on Mouse's face.

"I know, and I don't care, because it isn't a mistake," Daylen shot back.

"GO TO HELL!" the demon roared.

He summoned great blades, spears, and weapons of magic that were as hard as dragon scales. Then he threw them forward like bullets. Daylen side stepped one, but it took the skirt of his armour off. He deflected another with his sword, and stumbled to avoid another.

"If it takes me there, so be it, but I know that my dream..."

"JUST GIVE UP!" the demon yelled.

"ISN'T WRONG!"

With that great yell, Daylen shifted forward again and again. His skin became like a ghost, passing through the blade, his sword strikes like lightning. Even though his movements were heavy, and he had blood coming out of his nose and eyes, Daylen kept moving forward. Mouse grew, turning into a great bear. Impressed by Daylen's prideful determination, he pounced on the demon of doubt, tearing him apart. Daylen leant on his sword for support, ready to stand against Mouse's demonic form if necessary.

 **(End theme)**

"Remember mage, keep your wits about you!"

Daylen suddenly opened his eyes, he wasn't in the fade anymore. A Mabari was licking his face, barking happily at him. Rolling onto his hands, he saw that his armour wasn't damaged, and his hand hadn't been burned. Also his mana potions were still intact. He stood up, seeing a storage chest had been placed in front of him.

 _"A little gift for when you wake up, don't worry it's not divine intervention, just a staff you can use."_

 _"It will be interesting to see if you survive._

 _Flemeth, X."_

Daylen slowly opened the chest and looked inside, the dog right by his side. It wasn't a staff, but what he could only call a sword handle. Taking the handle, he examined it, no buttons so it wasn't a light sabre. He could feel the lyrium in it though, and he concentrated out of curiosity. The dog barked in surprise, as fire, electricity and ice, all of the power Daylen had within him, came out of the blade, forming a subtle blade shape. This was supposed to be the weapon of an arcane warrior, a staff sword.

"Just hold on a little longer," he hoped for his friends. "I may not have figured out the best way to move forward, but I do know now, the best way to win."

* * *

 **Customised Shuttle 'Scoped'-Unknown space**

Kona'Igna'Miles was one of the few aliens in a empire ruled by humans (in spite of it being founded by aliens). A Chiss, Igna's species were humanoid, blue skinned people with dark hair and red eyes. Scientists often theorised they were an off shot of migrating humans, their blue skin a result of the minerals present on Csilla. Igna sat in the piloting seat of the imperial shuttle, an area with lights dimmed so she could see better. The eyes of the Chiss would glow brighter when in the dark, and they saw much better in dimly lit areas.

Igna was fourteen years old, yet already had the appearance of a fully matured human girl. Her species typically matured faster than humans, not just physically, but mentally too. She was as smart and as capable of older imperial agents, and loyal to the idea of the empire. The agent/pilot remained silent, just like every other person on the ship. Behind her, sat in a row were Imperial commandoes, men and women of different species, all of them in black and red armour. They checked over their weapons, not looking at the Sith lord sitting across from them.

The hooded man didn't bother to ask Igna if she had engaged the cloaking device. She and his chosen troopers were all capable, and he trusted them to make creative, and reliable decisions. He felt the sudden shift in gravity, as the ship began to enter a planet's atmosphere. The Scoped began a slow descent into a world of dark plains and high mountaintops. On this world were also ruins of ancient societies, a graveyard of ships from Revan's order and older models from older worlds, the wreckage unrecognisable and any technology useless. Igna bought the shuttle down, folding the previously outstretched wings up to the third wing on the top of the ship. By the time the loading bay door was lowered, the soldiers were already walking down it, checking the area for any hostiles.

"Clear," one of the soldiers declared, but never lowered his rifle.

Igna walked with the hooded man, her own eyes scanning the area for traps. He however walked casually, no concern or fear of danger. Through the force he could detect what the non-force users couldn't, including hunters in the graveyard.

"Take the squad to the ruins, wait for me at the entrance," he said.

Igna nodded her head, relaying the information to the troops and moving ahead. Their master took a different path, straight into the graveyard.

"I know you are there, servants of Revan," he declared.

Four dark jedi emerged from their hiding places. One man and woman in grey and black robes, their faces painted red with hoods, and masks covering their mouths. A Twi'lek man wore a silver armoured chest plate over his robes, and held a collapsible double edged light sabre. Finally the fourth was an assassin, holding a short bladed sabre, his face covered by a red eyed breathing mask. The hooded man remained unthreatened as the red blades shot out of their handle. He remained ever still as a blue bladed light sabre appeared near his neck. Behind him, a force cloak faded, revealing a Cathar woman in blue clothes and brother leather armour.

"I was wondering where you were, hand of Revan," he said.

The Cathar woman grit her teeth together, despite the colour of her sabre, her eyes had the yellow tinge of someone touched by the dark side. Her wrinkled skin though wasn't a result of dark side degradation, but a long life, with time to study both aspects of the force.

"My name is Juhani," she said, before dragging the blade across his neck.

Next Episode 12: The battle for Ferelden part 4: Our purpose

* * *

An aged Juhani returns, hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. Next time Daylen, and the circle mages finally join the fight.


	12. Episode 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 12: Our purpose

 **Highever**

Light sabres were difficult to master, difficult to even use. Thedosian's had the advantage of their fighting styles being based around blades, but the energy weapons were much more different than the swords. The elegant weapons were weightless, a clumsy hand would get cut off with it. Despite the fact that Fenris's sabre was based upon a great sword, it didn't have the weight of one. He was faster with the light sabre than he could ever be with the sword. But there was one time a light sabre would feel heavy, when striking another light sabre. Fenris was used to fighting people with swords, his former master Danarius had him face numerous opponents, many times. The Shadow guards had the force, and just as much skill as Sith acolytes. Fortunately, Fenris was used to fighting acolytes.

He parried a flow from a sabre pike, diverting it towards the second shadow guard's pike. The third and fourth guardsmen came at him from behind, and he brought his sabre round, trapping the four pikes together. Ducking, Fenris swung his sabre cleanly through the waist of one of the shadow guards, relieving him of his legs. Thrusting their hands forward, they threw Fenris across the street. He got off the floor, stretching his arms as the shadow guards began running towards him. Fenris held his blade forward, waiting for them to get to him. Two span their pikes around, trying to distract him. When the third thrust his pike forward, Fenris moved his head to the side, then parried and then side stepped the wide slash of the second guardsman.

The purple blade locked with the red blades, releasing sparks onto the floor. Fenris pushed forward, shoving one guardsman to the floor. He swept his sabre around, knocking another guardsman off balance. The third guardsman widened his eyes as Fenris grabbed the handle of his sabre staff. Lifting his blade up, Fenris slammed it into the guardsman's shoulder, burning through his armour. Then he slammed his head into the man's helmet, knocking him back. With a thrust, he drove his sabre through the man's gut, pushing him off the blade with a kick.

At that point he was panting, killing two guardsman had not been easy, despite how it may have appeared on the outside. Fenris had fought difficult battles before, but the shadow guards pushed his reflexes and strength to their limits. Sweat glistened off of his skin as he turned, his back hunching slightly when he gripped his sabre with both hands. He was tired, and the two remaining shadow guards knew it.

'But I won't give up, this is why I'm here,' Fenris thought before rushing into battle again.

* * *

 **Vigil's keep**

Aedan dragged one of his squad mates to cover, checking the scorch marks on his chest. The young man had been hit by a hail of blaster fire. Despite their disguises getting them through the front gate, actually getting inside the castle was difficult. A Sith commando was standing on one of the towers, manning a gunner turret. Automated turrets also had then pinned down. Aedan looked to Varel, who was trying to get a shot in with a rocket launcher. The brave man poked out of cover, only for several bolts to rip him to shreds.

Just when Aedan thought they were done, a roar came from the sky. A dragon swooped over the castle, hitting the turrets with electricity from its maw. The trooper on the turret yelled in agony before his turret overloaded. Four explosions brought part of the keep down.

"FORWARD!" the Cousland yelled.

He took Varel's rocket launcher and fired into the main gate. His lead was followed by several grenades and other improvised explosives, provided by a pyromaniac dwarf. Aedan wasn't sad to see the Howe home burn, but he knew that wouldn't clear out the troopers inside. Their helmets filtered out smoke after all. Before leading his men forward again, he took one last look at the dragon in the sky, a beautiful sight to him.

* * *

 **Amaranthine**

Nathaniel primed an explosive on one of his arrows. Knocking the arrow back, he aimed it at one of the approaching walkers. When he released the arrow, it flew into one of the eye holes. Smoke and fire, and the screams of the piloting crew came from the walker, before it began to stop moving. Mhairi and Sigrun were on city walls, launching grenades with slingshots, and firing rocket launchers. Sigrun loaded an ion rocket and handed it to Mhairi. Clumsily she hefted it onto her shoulder, targeting one of the approaching tanks. When the rocket hit it, an ion surge ran across the vehicle, shutting it down. Sigrun then gave Mhairi a crossbow with an impact grenade attached to it. Aiming down the sight, Mhairi launched the bolt into the tank's open canopy, blowing it up from the inside.

"We've bought down their heavy weapons," she cheered.

Suddenly, a green beam ripped through her head. Her body fell unceremoniously onto the streets. Nathaniel followed the path of the shot, towards a scout trooper in the distance. He knocked back an arrow, sending it flying through the trooper's neck.

"Imperial reinforcements incoming, close the gate," he called down to the rebels on the streets.

Pushing the gates with their bare hands, the rebels shut them. The imperial defectors began running to the city walls, firing at the approaching imperial forces. With their heavy vehicles brought down, the approaching infantry had a disadvantage, because of the vantage point the city walls offered the rebels. Nathaniel was soon joined by the imperial defectors, whom fired their rifles as he launched arrow after arrow. He looked to the sky, just as everyone else did. Leliana came down on the imperials with her dragon, passing electricity through each one. Jumping off of the dragon's back, using the confusion the beast created, Leliana ran at one of the squads.

"Blessed are the peacekeepers, champions of the just," she said, shooting two troopers with her pistol.

"Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow," she jumped on top of the commander, driving her knife through his neck, then she threw his belt grenade into his allies.

"In their blood the maker's will is written," she cut another trooper across the throat, and once again threw a grenade into a crowd.

She clung to her dragon's leg as it flapped its wings, releasing waves of wind that kept the troopers off balance, and unfocused. Then as it flew up with Leliana, bolts, beams and arrows came from the city walls, thinning the imperial numbers.

"Tamra, Danella, hold the city walls, we need to mop up the imperials still in the city, especially the shadow guards," Nathaniel explained.

He picked up another quiver of arrows and ran onto the streets. Seeing the explosions and electricity near the chantry, he assumed correctly that Velanna had taken her battle towards where the innocents were sheltered.

* * *

 **Highever**

Sebastian's energy cells were running on dry. He threw aside a useless cycler rifle and looked down the sight of a sniper rifle. Carefully aiming down it, he took a deep breath as he squeezed the trigger, executing one imperial after another, whom dared to go out of cover. Through his sight, he spotted Tallis and Isabela running side by side. The nimble beauties were on the rooftops, dropping grenades onto unsuspecting trooper patrols. Both landed in the middle of a group of troopers. Tallis delivered a sharp kick to the face of a trooper, redirecting his blaster to fire on the man beside him. Isabela slashed another trooper across the throat and kicked a second to the ground. Tallis then threw two knives into his neck.

In his time as a hunter, Sebastian probably would have found something attractive about the two women. They picked up two E-11 carbines each and began shooting through the troopers on the streets. He contributed to the body count with his rifle, utilising the distraction they provided too. When troopers tried to shoot them, he shot first. Down to six more enemies, the two women dropped their rifles and went in close range. One trooper tried to draw his stun baton, only for Tallis to throw a knife through his hand. Isabela brought her legs around an imperial officer's neck, ruthlessly breaking it. Tallis stabbed the trooper with the stun baton through the neck, then took his weapon, activated it and threw it at one of the other troopers. The force of the blow sent the trooper flying through the wall. Isabela slid across the floor, cutting the fourth trooper's leg, and then stabbing him through the throat. She grabbed the man's body, covering herself with it as the last trooper shot at her again and again.

"Vashedan," Tallis cursed, jumping for cover as the trooper shot at her.

She prepared one of her knives, only for a shot to hit her in the arm. The trooper stepped on his dead ally's body, applying weight to Isabela's chest, trapping her. He fired at Sebastian's sniping spot, forcing him to get to cover.

"Rebel scum," he snarled, pointing his rifle at Isabela's head.

Suddenly, an explosive bolt slammed into his chest, throwing him away from Isabela. She threw the body off of her, looking to where the bolt had come from. Varric grinned triumphantly, resting his crossbow on his shoulder.

"Oh Varric I could kiss you, you beautiful dwarf," the former pirate grinned.

"Now, now Rivain, don't thank me, thank Bianca," he said.

"Oh I'll be happy to later."

Varric sheepishly chuckled, keeping a close hold of his beloved crossbow, especially as Isabela aimed her sultry eyes at it. Sebastian directed his gaze away from the trio, and towards the explosions coming from the second district. A blonde haired mage was leading other Apostates, decimating the imperial forces. He spotted the blonde haired man healing several civilians caught in the crossfire.

"Magic exists to serve man, not rule over him," Sebastian repeated what he had often been told in the chantry.

Clearly today the mages were fulfilling their purpose.

* * *

 **Denerim**

Oghren, Sten and Zevran crept through the houses of Denerim, people offering them aid and shelter. They followed a trooper patrol, looking for an opening to strike. When they tried shooting Alistair's dragon out of the sky, they made their move. Sten ran out of one of the houses, beheading two troopers with a single swing of his sword. He lifted another off of the floor, using him to bludgeon two troopers across from him. Zevran jumped from the rooftops, sliding his blade through the neck of a trooper. He then took the trooper's repeater and began firing at the troopers in front of him. Oghren then let out a great yell, and slammed his axe through the head of a trooper. Lifting a great sword over his head, he swung it into the side of another trooper.

In the opposite street, Tabris and her fellow elves were overrunning the imperial riot troopers. They hit the elves with stun batons, only for their weapons to be ripped from their grips, their technological superior useless against the sheer numbers they faced. It wasn't just elves joining the fray, it was any resident of Denerim, high born and low born alike. Knives slid through the gaps in armour, clubs batted against helmets, blasters were ripped from imperial grip, stones bombarded them from above. The dwarf, elf and Qunari trio led those who helped them, flanking the imperial squad.

Tabris stabbed a trooper through the chest and raised her sabre high. The triumphant roars of Denerim citizens rose above the rooftops, and could be heard even from fort Drakon. Kaius smirked, inspired by the excellent progress of the battle. He spotted the ranks of white armoured Knight-Troopers, their phalanx kept on advancing against the imperial gun batteries. Loghain's own troopers began their flanking manoeuvres, hitting the squadrons that 'pinned' Loghain's unit. Their fired their high powered rifles, threw their grenades, weakening them for Loghain's charge.

"Bring out heavy weapons, I want those dragons brought down," Price told one of his aides. "Reinforce the market district, if Cailan doesn't command his troops to attack, have them attack on my order."

Price suddenly ducked for cover, dodging a hail of blaster fire. Cullen and his fellow troopers 'jumped' over the imperial base with their packs. Letting out bursts from his machine gun, Cullen shot two troopers in front of him. Price popped out of cover, shooting two knights before hitting the third's jetpack. The young man clutched his pack helplessly, before the device blew up. The explosion threw Cullen and his allies to the ground. His ears ringing, Cullen crawled towards his blaster. Price kicked him in the stomach, turning him onto his back and pointing his pistol at his head.

"We were bringing order and civilisation to your backwater, savage world, why do this?" Price asked.

"Your civilisation was a joke, and your order? It was just as savage as our world was before you came here," Cullen said.

Gathering his strength, Cullen grabbed Price's legs, and activated his jet pack. Price yelled as Cullen sped across the floor, before rising into the air. Flipping in midair, Cullen threw the commander, who was quickly impaled on fence spikes. When he landed, Cullen checked his exhausted allies and rested himself. Price was dead, the only one giving the orders was gone. But that didn't mean the fight was over. The rocket troopers ran to the walls, and fired at their chosen target.

Alistair felt the rockets hit the Frostback, and screamed as the dragon fell. It fell much faster than he did, he kept his hands raised, his body relaxed and prayed for a miracle. He hoped some wonderful woman would swoop in and save him, but swooping was still bad. Morrigan caught him with her talons and swerved, avoiding another hail of rockets. Cullen and his men quickly brought the rocket troopers down, but the damage had already been done. The last rocket they fired hit Morrigan's wing. She let out a cry of pain, rolling into a ball as she fell into Denerim's market square.

"BLAST AND DAMNATION!" Morrigan yelled.

She nursed a broken leg and a scorched arm. Alistair looked at the wild witch in shock.

"You saved my life," he said.

"Such a ridiculous way to die falling, you deserve much worse for your stupidity," she said.

Alistair got off of the floor, ripping the sleeve of his shirt off. He took off his shin guards and wrapped them around Morrigan's leg, using his sleeve as a tourniquet. Before he could leave however she grabbed his hand, placing one of her light sabre handles into it.

"It belonged to a pike wielder, the staff extends," she stated, doubting that Alistair would get it.

First Alistair ignited the sabre, then he extended the handle to its pike mode. He twirled the staff around, nodding his head in thanks to Morrigan. But then he raised his hands in a none threatening manner. The rebels who had come to investigate lowered their weapons.

"This woman needs help, get her to safety," Alistair commanded.

The men and women nodded their heads in agreement. Alistair ran and joined the ranks of Denerim rioters, all of them gathering in front of Cailan's guards, throwing rocks and bottles into their ranks.

"My people please, stop this, before it's too late," he said.

"It's already too late king," said one of the market stall owners.

"Your father would be ashamed," yelled out a noble.

"Sold us out to the imperials!"

"Bastard!"

"Coward!"

"No, we all would have become slaves if not for me, we were being integrated into the empire, we would have become an important part of it," Cailan explained.

"YOU IDIOT CAILAN!" Tabris yelled. "You have no idea how your precious empire has treated us do you?"

Cailan tensed as he heard his guards prepare their weapons. He then looked at the front of the crowd, Alistair stood as one of the citizens, a leader in a way he never would be. Behind them, the king saw Loghain, whom had always been a hero to the people of Ferelden. But Loghain, and Alistair, and every other citizen in Denerim moved aside, leaving room for one faction Cailan did not expect. Their shields bore the marks of the flaming swords of the templars, blocking the hail of blaster fire that flew past Cailan's head.

"CHARGE!" Greigor yelled.

The Knight-troopers, the templar order of Ferelden, charged into Cailan's elite, dragging him into the fight whether he liked it or not.

* * *

 **Our Purpose**

Daylen walked over the hilltop, the Mabari dog beside him. It had imprinted on him rather quickly, following him whether he liked it or not. But his focus wasn't on the dog, it was on the mages in front of him. Jowan, Petra and Niall kept everyone together, waiting patiently for his arrival, for the arrival of the golem army. The army of fifty cleared the way for him as he made his way towards the front.

"Is he different now?"

"Where did he get that sword?"

"That can't be Daylen can it?"

These questions and more were murmured by the mages. But they all fell silent as Daylen reached Niall, Petra and Jowan.

"I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting," he said.

"Please tell me you have a plan," Jowan said.

Daylen nodded his head and took off his gloves. His shirt soon followed, the mages blinking in confusion as he began mixing his mana potions, forming a paint instead of fluid. He then began to draw markings over his forehead, lines down the sides of his face, down his neck and towards his chest. With his fingers, he drew a circle of blue paint into his chest and extended lines to his shoulders, across the lengths of his arms and to circles on his forehands.

"What is that, Elvhen? Tevinter?" Niall asked.

"Mine," Daylen said.

"You created your own spell?" Petra asked.

"More like a natural evolution of a different spell, you recall all those times I was making constructs? Knight Enchanter swords?"

"How can we forget, there were times you even did it in your sleep, what of it?" Jowan asked.

"Well who says that the limit of Knight-Enchanter constructs is in swords, or shields? Who says a particular shape needs to be made, that it isn't limited by the imagination of the caster? Elf arcane warriors become so through training, not the complicated rituals the Chantry uses. Tevinter, Orlais, we were all able to grasp the concepts of magic, not just because we took the knowledge from the elves, but because the potential to use magic was inside us," Daylen explained, giving Niall the bowl with the mana paste in it.

"Everyone, take the paste and draw this symbol onto your palms, they have to be as close matches to them as you can, help one another. Magic exists to serve man, not rule over him, that's what we've been told all of our lives. Through every chantry sermon, every lecture from our teachers, chastising from our templar guardians, we have been told that we are meant to serve in some way. I believe the choice to serve should be everyone's. We should not serve because a god has told us to, but because it is the right thing to do!"

The mages of the tower began drawing the symbol Daylen told them to draw. As they did this task, they thought of Daylen's opposing view of the Chantry. Though not all agreed on his overall opinion, they respected what he was meaning to say at that moment. Some even developed the opinion that they were fulfilling their purpose to the chantry, the true chantry. Niall thought of how his mother always told him he was destined for greatness. In the circle, he knew that would never become a reality. But being a foundation for the rebellion, for Daylen, was enough for him. Jowan thought of the girl he loved, and of his friend, whom he saw as a brother. He'd been both jealous and proud of Daylen, yet it all paled in comparison to the awe his friend filled him with. By Daylen simply being himself, he made Jowan better in ways he knew was only possible because of the path they were walking. Petra looked at the rune on the palm of her hand, the brilliance of what Daylen had created, yet respected the danger too.

"This is a transfer symbol, the runes on your chest are containment symbols, and the symbols on your forehands are to assist with control," she explained, seeing exactly what Daylen was planning.

Daylen smiled at her, Petra was always quiet, but smarter than others believed. He put his finger to his scar, opening the top of the wound, drawing just a little bit of blood out. The other mages gasped in horror, presuming that he would use blood magic.

"I'm not consorting with demons or spirits," he reassured them. "And I demand blood from none of you, I'm willing to lay down my life, but the sacrifice must be mine, no one else's. Blood is drawn from us when we first come to the circle, a form of blood magic meant to track us. This form of blood magic, is simply a means to draw power from my blood."

He drew another symbol across his chest, in his blood this time. The symbol was one they never thought they would see from him, the flaming sword of the templar order.

"The power of a mage, of many mages, no many people working together, helping one another. I believe that is what should be the primary way of this world, people helping each other, loving each other. It is that ability to stand together, to fight together, that sets us apart from not the empire, but those who value cruelty and ambition. Inside each of us is the power to change lives, to make miracles happen. Lend me your power, for just a moment, and help me achieve a miracle today!"

 _(Fate/Stay Night Unlimited blade works-Into the night)_

Daylen turned, not waiting for a response, as the golem army began to cross the hill. On an opposite hilltop, Lavallan watched the two armies, one hopelessly outnumbered the other. Branka let out a laugh, amused and not touched by the gathering of mages. Slowly, one by one, beginning with Jowan, Niall and Petra touching Daylen's back, the mages placed their hands against one another's backs. The symbols on their palms glowed, passing mana into the person in front of them, passing it through a chain.

When it reached Daylen, he grit his teeth together, his arms and legs shaking as the massive amounts of Mana flowed through his body. The symbols across his body glowed, and both his eyes glowed red as he raised his hands. In his mind, he pictured all the wonderful and terrifying machines he had seen the empire produce, the walkers, the tanks, the blasters and fighters. He imagined the numerous pictures he saw, the diagrams he had secretly studied. From those drawings, he had determined how they worked, inside the great machines, were smaller machines all working together, gears and parts of a grand design.

'Begin with something small,' he thought.

Slowly, the parts began to form in front of him. Electricity surged around the constructs, and down the length of Daylen's arms. Yet still he held his own, concentrating on what he was creating. He cast aside fear of failure, he couldn't fail, it wasn't an option now. Branka gave the order for her tanks to fire, releasing a barrage of blaster fire. A circle shaped barrier formed in front of the mages, designed by Daylen, and reinforced by his fellow mages.

'Expand the design, make it bigger, focus and form every gear, use your own soul as a generator, your mind its processor,' the mage chanted within his mind.

He grit his teeth together, his legs dangerously close to collapsing. Steam rose from his hands and blood began to flow out of his right eye.

 **"Use the force Daylen,"** he heard Surana's voice in his head.

From the relief camp, Wynn saw the outstanding amounts of mana being poured into a single mage. He was converting the mana into both a barrier, and slowly constructing something no one in Thedas would have been able to make, if not for the imperial's expanding their imagination.

 **"Let go,"** Merrill's voice echoed in his ears, making him shake his head.

'The armour must be thick, my focus must be absolute, believe, believe, believe...' he closed his eyes, time around him became distorted.

 **"Daylen, trust in the force,"** he heard Kinnon's voice in the darkness.

 **"It is with you,"** said Surana.

He felt her gentle touch on his back. Then he shook his head, denying her, denying the force.

"We don't need to trust in the force, but in one another, the force won't change the world, WE WILL!"

 _(Fate Stay Night-Emiya)_

Opening his eyes, Daylen let out a yell of determination. A bright light shined in front of him, causing the imperial's to shield their eyes. Branka however looked through the light, widening her eyes in horror at what slowly emerged from it. From her own perch, Flemeth laughed hysterically, just like Kaius did.

"Oh my old friend, you were wrong, it seems human mages can make something that is their own. I thought I had a good feeling about this one," she said.

Daylen's eyes were closed, his body still, and the eyes of his fellow mages had been filled with awe and hope. Hovering across the ground, was his great machine. Each part rotated and moved, serving a purpose to keep the machine functional. It was a humanoid golem, made from magic, but the armour glowed blue with mana. Thrusters were on its shoulders and back, reinforced by huge plates of glowing blue armour. The machine was taller than the metal golems and held a massive grey sword, the very design of the armour inspired courage in the rebels, and brought fear to the imperials.

"Incredible," Marian said, watching the battle from the distance.

She and Bethany gripped one another's hands, proud of their cousin. The knight-golem began moving forward, straight towards the imperial army.

"TEAR THAT RIDICULOUS CONSTRUCT APART!" Branka yelled, overcome by the belief that nothing was more superior than her golems.

But when the Knight-golem reached the golems, it swept its massive sword around. In an instant, several golems had already been ripped apart. The Knight-golem flew into the sky, crushing several stone golems before cleaving metal ones in half. It span in a wide circle, bashing, crushing and slicing apart any golem in its path.

"What are we waiting for? We're not out of mana just yet," Petra said, taking out her mana potions.

The other mages began replenishing their mana, then took their staffs off of their backs. They gathered their mana, chanted their incantations, concentrated on the area above the imperial forces. As the Knight-golem rushed through the imp formations, fire, ice and lightning, perfect storms came down on the enemy.

"Target the mage, OPEN FIRE NOW!" Branka yelled.

Rockets and fireballs suddenly slammed into the tanks. Branka looked to her left, seeing rebels riding on horses, and even speeder bikes. Marian rode around the imperial formation, Bethany behind her, spraying fire into their ranks. Lilly fired her bike's forward cannons, swerving, only for a blaster bolt to hit her engine. The explosion went unseen in the confusion of battle, but the Knight-Golem soon landed on the troopers that executed Jowan's love.

'This is why we are mages, this is the power that lies in each of us,' he thought. 'This is our purpose!'

Daylen opened his eyes, increasing the speed the knight moved at, sweeping troopers off of the ground, and crushing golems. Several steel golems tried to grab the knight's massive sword, only for the grand machine to lift them off of the floor, throwing them into the troopers around it. Panic spread across Branka's face as the knight began stampeding towards her tank.

"SHOOT THAT THING! KILL IT! KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT!" she screamed hysterically.

The tanks and rocket troopers fired their ordinance, breaking pieces of the knight's armour off. Daylen kept on pushing the knight forward, igniting its thrusters, burning the troopers behind it. The knight thrust its sword forward, and Branka screamed before the blade lifted her into the air. What was left of her splat against the ground. With the knight exposed, the other imperial tanks fired on it, blowing off chunks of its armour, tearing off its limbs. The knight raised its sword high, and lighting came down on it. Above the battle, Leliana had her dragon hit the knight with more and more electricity, creating an electrical explosion that shut down the tanks, and disintegrated anyone around it.

"That's why mages should be feared, and why we can be loved too, we're more than monsters, we can be heroes like everyone else in Thedas," Daylen said, the glow across his body fading as he fell to the floor.

 _(End Soundtrack)_

From the hilltops, waves of cavalry emerged from the forces of Ferelden's Banns. They had heard of the defiance of the rebellion, and rushed to fight back. Troopers were crushed under horses, or cut with swords and spears. Leliana landed her dragon beside the mages and ran to Daylen. He was being supported by Petra and Jowan.

"What you showed me today, I never thought was possible," she muttered. "We have the imperial forces on the run, it's only a matter of time before we finish them!"

"It's not over yet," Daylen said, looking up to Fort Drakon.

* * *

 **Thedas orbit**

Moff Uclas had a look of pride on his face that disgusted Plagueis and Tenebrous. Though the Sith lords had their differences, they both favoured the scientific approach to winning. There was a great scientific advancement in the great machine the Moff had built. From the super star destroyer, they formed a wireless link with a satellite, one where the weapon had been placed. Stockpiles of lyrium had been loaded into the satellite, which was controlled by remote.

"Lords Tenebrous, Plagueis, you're about to witness the testing of a weapon's system more advanced than anything the empire possesses. I hope this initial test will show you the importance of our new initiative," the Moff explained.

"Do not be too proud of this technological terror you have constructed, a laser weapon is insignificant next to the power of the force," Tenebrous said.

"With respect my lord, there hasn't been a laser weapon quite like this," a smirk crossed the Moff's face as he turned to his crew. "Prepare firing sequence!"

"What is the target?" Plagueis asked.

"I think it's time we rid ourselves of the pesky Dalish rebellion in the Dales, it's time we were rid of their primitive ways once and for all," Uclas said.

Tenebrous and Plagueis kept their eyes on the satellite. It began positioning itself over the orbit of Orlais. Both Sith Lord's exchanged glances, sensing the many lives hiding in the Dales. That area of Orlais had become a gathering ground for three quarters of the Dalish population. The bottom of the satellite opened, revealing four arrays. Energy surged through each array, before they diagonally released beams, that linked into a single beam. That beam rushed through the planet's atmosphere, increasing speed, and growing in power the further downwards it travelled.

Then the Sith Lords heard it, thousands of voices crying out in terror, and then silence.

Next Episode 13: Battle for Ferelden part 5: Duels of fate

* * *

Wait till next chapter to find out what happened to the Dales. Daylen's 'Knight-Golem' was based on the Helmwige Reincar from Gundam Iron Blooded Orphans.

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, despite some of the unfortunate deaths in it. Next time we'll go back to the hooded man as the imperial POV.


	13. Episode 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

Here it is, the finale to the battle of Ferelden

* * *

Dragon War: Rebellion

Episode 13: Duels of fate

Daylen let out long, and heavy breaths. The forging of his golem had taken a lot out of him. He could barely stand without either Niall or Petra supporting him. They were about to begin moving towards Denerim, when they saw it. The grand light came down from the sky, creating a mushroom cloud in the distance.

"That's the Dales," one of the elf mages said.

"By the Maker," gasped Niall.

Their leader suddenly fell to his knees, gripping the chest area of his shirt tightly. Now he could feel it, the thousands of people dead, their fear as they were killed. Even through the discoveries made by Imperial archaeological teams, even with their culture and mythology being ripped apart, the Dalish still held onto the belief that they could remake their society, that they could find a home land. For some, it was only in their final moments that they discovered the sense of home that they always wanted.

Then that rage welled up inside Daylen, his red eyes looking to the sky. How dare they? He thought, any understanding he had of the empire was thrown aside, for from the destruction of the Dales, he asked other questions. How far could they go? The destruction of a culture, to the destruction of a city, to the genocide of a people. They had crossed that line, they had the power, and they cared not for responsibility. The empire would one day gain the power to destroy a planet, and they would destroy it. They would create many justifications for it, but none would be reasonable, they weren't a necessary evil, they were just evil.

He got up off of the floor and began a walk towards Denerim. Marian bought her bike up beside Daylen, no smile was on her face. All across the battlefield, people had witnessed the destruction of the Dales. Across the region of Thedas, people had seen it. It would not have the affect Moff Uclas had hoped.

Amaranthine

Velanna's eyes froze on the mushroom cloud, where the Dales once stood. She, like others of her clan believed whole heartedly in what they were doing, seeking out knowledge, protecting it and using it to slowly restore their world. Now, Velanna sensed that she was part of an endangered culture. She heard the whirls of the Shadow guard's sabre pikes, but she was not afraid. She was too angry to be afraid. Slamming her staff into the ground, she screamed, a bright blue light glowing from her eyes. A hand of roots rose from the ground, grabbing one of the shadow guards and lifting him into the air, before slamming him down onto the ground, crushing him.

"Shemlen BASTARDS!" she yelled.

Throwing her hand forward, Velanna released torrents of lightning, hitting one of the Shadow guards. He tried to block the electricity with his staff, but Velanna poured more and more mana into her spell. She screamed, putting all of her fury into the spell, the lightning ran through the guard's sabre and passed through his flesh. As the guard was electrocuted, his two remaining allies swung their sabre staffs at Velanna. She ran energy across her staff, blocking the blows of the two force users. But their experience with duelling was much greater than hers. She managed to hit one across the head with her staff, knocking him back slightly. But the second guard grazed her leg with his staff, forcing her to roll back. Her mana was low, and the fireball she released was too weak to affect the shadow guard's armour. He threw her against the wall with the force. The shadow guard twirled his staff around as he approached her. Raising the staff high, Velanna raised her staff in one final futile defence.

Suddenly, a red sabre blade ripped through the man's back. Nathaniel pushed the body off of the stolen sabre, and picked the dead guard's staff up. Like the previous sabre staff, Nathaniel adjusted the handle until it was the length for a sword. Dual wielding the weapons, he stood his ground as the final shadow guard approached. He was a better archer, but was trained with a blade too. Velanna grudgingly tapped her staff against the ground, forming a barrier around Nathaniel. She concentrated hard as Nathaniel ran at the shadow guard. He trapped the man's staff between his sabres, the staff was resistant to sabres, but still trapped.

Nathaniel was thrown back by a force push. He rolled backwards, to a crouched position. The shadow guard came at him fast, swinging his sabre staff towards his neck. Fortunately, the barrier deflected the sabre. Swinging his sabres, Nathaniel cut the man's chest. But the shadow guard member wasn't through, he thrust his pike into Nathaniel's shoulder, and delivered another force push. Lightning crackled in the man's hand as he threw the tentacles at Nathaniel. The Howe heir raised his sabres, managing to block the force lightning. Slowly he moved forward, breaking off into a run. The Shadow Guard stopped the lightning assault and raised his staff into a defensive position. Then he thrust it forward, brushing the blade through Nathaniel's cheek.

Nathaniel however, passed the blades through the Shadow guard's belly, separating his body from his legs. Those in Amaranthine whom hadn't come out of their homes, looked out to see Nathaniel, holding one of his sabres high. He then pointed to the Dales.

"You want a reason to fight, there it is," he said.

Highever

Fenris looked up at the mushroom cloud of the Dales. He felt an unexpected pang of pain from seeing the destruction of the Dalish homeland. Even his weak connection to the force, enabled him to sense the pain and the deaths of all those people. It did distract him however. The two shadow guards threw force lightning at him, forcing him to guard with his sabre. They increased the volts, making Fenris's sabre heavier. He cursed, as the lightning began to overload his sabre, breaking it apart. The electricity wrapped itself around Fenris's body, making him yell in pain. It was pain akin to what he went through when they implanted the lyrium in his skin.

But that remembrance, awakened something in Fenris. His rage grew, face contorting into an expression akin to an animal. Letting out a yell, the lyrium on his skin glowed. The force lightning was suddenly deflected, making the Shadow guards stumble back. They looked towards Fenris in shock, the markings on his skin kept glowing blue as he began walking towards them. He looked towards the shadow guards, the rage filled expression still on his face. Yelling as he ran at the guards, Fenris slid between them, deflecting their sabres with his arms. He pulled his sword off of his back, and smashed it against one of the guard's sabre. The force of the blow slid the guard back, whilst the other deflected and blocked Fenris's follow up sword swings.

Fenris head butter the guard, and then drove his hand through the man's chest. When he pulled his hand away, he ripped the man's spine out of his chest. Then he grabbed his sword, hitting the last Shadow guard with the grip, span the blade around, and imbedded it in the man's helmet. Fenris kicked the body to the ground, and roared, his rage matching those across Thedas, who stopped to look at the Dales.

Denerim

There was no great pause, the rebels saw what had happened to the Dales, but they didn't stop the fight. Cailan however paused, and he was knocked onto his back by several Denerim citizens.

"By the Maker, everything is falling apart," he gasped.

Loghain, Anora and Cathrien remained close to one another, cutting down members of Cailan's guard. Alistair cut parried two strikes from a guard, and countered with his pike. Switching the staff to sword mode, he deflected a blaster shot back into one of the guard's. Oghren slammed his axe through a trooper's head, and Sten threw another away from them. Tabris and a few other elves dragged a royal guard member to the floor, turning his repeating blaster on his allies. Wielding a stun pike, Greigor knocked out one enemy after another. He kept his shield raised, as several of his fellow Knight-troopers were thrown back.

"Greigor," a voice growled through the smoke.

The Knight-Commander returned the glare of his opponent. Uldred stood before him, his skin deformed, he had consorted with a demon.

"I've been looking forward to this," he snarled.

"Believe it or not Uldred, so have I," Greigor said.

Uldred threw a fireball, hitting Greigor's shield. Greigor kept his shield raised as he advanced on Uldred. The mage released electricity from his finger tips, then followed it up with a paralysis rune. Greigor's body flashed, hitting Uldred with a smite. He then thrust his shield forward, viciously hitting Uldred in the face.

"You know why I want you dead," Uldred said, slamming his hand into the ground.

He shook the ground, causing rebel and imperial alike to collapse. Tabris screamed as her cousin Soris took several blaster bolts to the chest. Fighting through his pain, he primed the thermal detonator he held. The resulting explosion consumed him and three imperials, and threw the others around him back, including Uldred and Greigor. Letting out a yell, Tabris swung the cross guard sabre, cutting down any imperial in her way. She beheaded one man, and stabbed another in the chest. A blaster bolt suddenly hit her in the shoulder, bringing her down to the ground.

"KALLIAN!" Cyrion, her father yelled.

He quickly ran in her way, grabbing her as three troopers fired their rifles. The man protected his daughter with his own body, taking shot after shot. Seeing the city elf in danger, Alistair ran to support her. He behead one trooper, and slashed the other across the chest. Then he literally disarmed the remaining trooper, before stabbing him through the chest. Kallian looked at both her father and the remains of her cousin, she didn't have anyone left now. Her eyes drifted towards Cailan, the young king was getting off of the floor, his helmet having flown off in the explosion.

"YOU!" she screamed.

She ignited the sabre and rushed towards the king. Cailan widened his eyes, quickly bringing up his sword, blocking the woman's strike. She swung the sabre again and again, pushing Cailan back, pouring all of her rage into the strikes.

"Please stop this, you are of Ferelden," Cailan said.

"I was of the Dales first, look at what your Imperial friends did to that," Kallian retorted.

She continued the assault, striking Cailan with her sabre and her words, every point she made hurt more than his physical wounds.

"This is all your fault," she said.

"I was trying to avoid all of this," Cailan said.

"This is what we wanted, to fight, to be free."

"I sacrificed and risked so much for all of you."

"You should have fought for us," Kallian dragged her sabre across the ground, swinging it upwards.

It was a lucky strike, and a deadly one, cutting off Cailan's sword hand. He fell to the floor in pain and anguish, looking up at the city elf, whose raged matched the Sith lords he admired.

"Please stop," Alistair begged her, grabbing her shoulder.

"He has to pay," Kallian said.

"It seems he already has."

"Not enough, he's still alive."

"And he has to live with the fact that he failed, that all of this happened under his rule," Alistair explained. "Please don't let yourself become a murderer, not when your family members died heroes!"

"They...they never wanted to be heroes," Kallian deactivated the sabre, falling into Alistair's arms. "Father wanted me to marry, Soris just wanted a pretty girl, and Shianni just wanted us to have a voice, to be as free as we could, it's not fair."

"No it isn't, it isn't," Alistair muttered, stroking the girl's head, and looking down at his brother in disapproval.

The rebels had nearly killed or captured every trooper there was left. On one side of the Ferelden fields, the cult of Andraste slaughtered those left from the legion. On the other, Velanna and Zathrien overlooked the disarmament and imprisoning of many troopers whom had surrendered. In Highever, Marian arrived, to see that Fergus Cousland was raising a Ferelden flag again. Nathaniel too raised a flag in Amaranthine. Simultaneously they fired flares into the sky, signalling their victories.

* * *

Kaius looked at the flares, smirking in satisfaction. His expectations of Daylen hadn't been wasted. Enduring great sacrifice, he matched strategy after strategy the empire threw at him. Enduring great pressure, he led his people from both the back and front, and never compromised his personal philosophy. Enduring great pain, he overcame his physical boundaries, and the boundaries set by many mages, to create something no mage had before. Still Kaius remembered the great knight Daylen had formed, an original spell based upon Arcane Warrior techniques, not even the elves had recorded such a thing being achieved.

"Master what should we do?" Kieli asked.

"We wait to see what he does next," Kaius said.

He crossed his arms together, eyes focusing on the creature flying to fort Drakon. Leliana's dragon, Kaius could see the priestess and Daylen sitting on the creature. He prepared himself, raising his hands as he felt the air around the dragon's maw distort. The dragon let out a ball of lightning, sending it flying towards Kaius. Throwing his hands forward, Kaius released a wave of force energy, the energy deflected the lightning, dispersing it.

"Lightning won't have an effect on him, " Daylen said to Leliana.

She grit her teeth together, flying around the spire of fort Drakon. Her eyes focused on Kaius, her rage affected the force bond with her dragon, making it roar as it circled the tower. It released a blast of fire from its mouth, burning a circle around Kaius and his apprentice. Controlling the force with his hand, Kaius extinguished the flames in front of him.

"Is that all you have left? Come on, SHOW ME THAT POWER FROM BEFORE!" Kaius yelled.

He opened his arms, as if welcoming a strike. Keili widened her eyes as the dragon swooped towards Kaius. Suddenly, the Sith lord jumped, on top of the dragon's head. Drawing his light sabre from his belt, he ignited the red blade and plunged it into the dragon's neck. The dragon let out a cry of pain, before it began to fall, Daylen and Leliana both holding tight as the dragon's body slammed into one part of the fort and another.

* * *

The dragon's fall only added to the chaos on the streets. Greigor could barely hear anything as he got off of the floor. He heard the screams of his men, some dead, others crushed by debris from the fortress. Loghain was leading his men forward, getting them to retake the fort. Greigor looked at his surroundings, and saw that most of his men were dead. For a moment he was angry with Daylen, having lost so many of their men. Then he thought of how well he would have fared, against so advanced an enemy.

"It seems your mind was the kind we needed the most, Daylen," Greigor said.

"Enough about Daylen," a voice growled behind him.

He heard that, and felt the claws rip through his abdomen. Uldred lifted Greigor off of the floor and threw him aside. The Knight-Commander landed hard, pain running through his body. He looked towards the mage in horror. Uldred's face was gone, replaced by the head of a Pride demon, the same applied to his hands, smaller and distorted versions of a Pride demon's claws. Even his staff and clothes had warped into something more demonic.

"All his life, I have had to put up with people talking about how brilliant he is, all day long that fool Irving praised his student, talking about how magnificent he was, about how there was no other student quite like him. The other senior enchanters said it to, they said one day Daylen would become the next First Enchanter, him, of all people. I had been there much longer than him, WHY WAS I NEVER CONSIDERED!" Uldred yelled.

"You may speak with Uldred's voice abomination, but you are not him," Greigor said, struggling to get up off of the floor.

"Oh but I am Uldred Greigor, only Uldred could take pleasure in killing you, you whom I hated as much as Irving," Uldred began to approach the Knight-Commander, raising his staff over his head.

Suddenly, a blade dragged itself across Uldred's back. He was stumbled to the side, and swung around. Standing in front of him was Daylen, holding his sword, the mana blade on it flickering.

"You barely have enough Mana to use that blade fool, just like Irving," Uldred raised his hand, draining Daylen's energy.

The young man screamed, the colour draining from his lips and face. Uldred laughed, nourishing Daylen's pain. He then hit him across in the chest with his staff, knocking him to the ground.

"I'll murder you shortly enough boy," Uldred said.

He turned back towards Greigor, only to sense Daylen stand again. The boy's knees were shaking, and he gripped the sword with both hands, again forming the blade. Daylen weakly swung the sword at Uldred, hitting his staff. The abomination laughed, punching Daylen across the face. He tripped Daylen with his staff and hit him in the chest.

"Always so noble and selfless aren't you? Always being praised by others, yet you have only scratched the surface of your power, that fleshy body of yours is simply a chrysalis to something greater. I have begun to ascend to that greatness, whilst you are too overcome by indecision, by your own selflessness and sentimental concern for others, just like your foolish teacher," Uldred explained.

Again he tried to focus on Greigor, and again Daylen caught his attention, hitting him with a bolt from his sword. Uldred's right arm began to expand, becoming as large as a Pride demon's arm. Dragging it behind him, Uldred hit Daylen once, then twice across the face, and then thrust his staff into Daylen's gut and kicked his chin.

"You know once a long time ago Irving was like you, fought as weakly as you did, tried as pitifully as you did for others. People overlooked my greatness and praised him, he denied me power and acknowledgement just as you deny me boy. That's why I had him made Tranquil, because I hoped it would hurt you," Uldred stomped on Daylen's chest, smirking as Daylen groaned in pain. "Tell me boy, did it hurt you? Did you admire your teacher? Was he like a father to you? Tell me boy, let me know if my plan worked, did it hurt you more than this does?" Uldred stomped on Daylen again and again.

"You picked the right target, I did admire Irving, despite our disagreements. I couldn't bring myself to respect his decisions, I saw so much after all, he said it was regrettable to make people tranquil, but he never did anything about it, he said he couldn't hate the templars for doing their duty, yet time and time again he and Greigor exposed corruption in the ranks. He said magic exists to serve man, not rule him, yet he never prayed in the chantry and he never said anything about man ruling over magic, he followed a textbook rhetoric, there was even a time I hated him for it," Daylen explained.

"But then there were other times, times that reminded me of when I spoke to my grandfather, times Irving spoke words of true wisdom. It was through him that I realised that those whom choose to fight for their beliefs are not wrong, nor are those whom choose not to fight. Results are not the only thing valued in this world, just as ideas are not the only thing valued. This isn't a world of ideas and results alone, those who achieve things are just as remembered as those who create ideas."

"He inspired me to be a person who values both ideas and results, to be someone who creates and achieves. In fact it was through him that I learnt of a strength that dwarfs yours and Kaius's," Daylen chuckled as he got off of the floor. "The greatest kind of strength is the kind Irving showed, he bore other people's pain and didn't break, it's the greatest power people can have, stronger than faith, stronger than belief in an idea, and it's born from the most human...no, it's a sign that a person is alive!"

"And enlighten me as to what that is," Uldred laughed.

"To have hope, for today and for tomorrow too, that is the greatest source of power," Daylen said.

Uldred shook his head before hitting Daylen with his enlarged arm, throwing him onto his front. Slowly, Daylen began crawling towards the gate. As Uldred walked towards him, the Abomination grew, completely giving in to Pride. The gigantic Pride demon planted its hand on Daylen's back, pushing him against the ground.

"Power is power Daylen, it doesn't matter where it comes from," he huffed.

"Maybe you're right," Daylen chuckled, despite the pain he was in.

"What?"

"Maybe the big speech was just a distraction," Daylen looked up at Uldred and grinned.

The Pride demon looked ahead, seeing Sten, Oghren and Zevran standing in front of him, the latter holding a bow.

"HA! You don't truly think a Dwarf, Elf and Kossith can stand against the power of Pride do you?" he asked.

"Yes, the fact that they aren't alone also helps," Daylen said.

The gate behind them suddenly opened, revealing not just the mages of the tower, but the cult of Andraste and the Ferelden Dalish clans, the werewolves and tree monsters and the Arl and Bann forces. Every military power in Ferelden stormed into the city. Zevran and several other Dalish elves pelted Uldred with arrows. Sten and Oghren both swung their weapons at the Pride demon, knocking him back. Swiftrunner jumped, dragging his claws against Uldred's chest. Several fireballs then flew into him, knocking him to the ground.

"GO! GO! STORM THE CASTLE!" Zathrian yelled.

Uldred screamed as the stomped and stabbed him, in contrast to Daylen. He was lifted over the heads of the army, all cheering and yelling in triumph. They carried Daylen to cover, leaving him there to rest as they stormed the castle. Daylen's vision was blurry, all he could see was a black clad figure standing over him. He tried to call out for someone, spotting the red on the man's face, and the outline of his horns. But he was too tired, his head fell down as he felt Kaius lift him off of the floor.

* * *

 **Ship graveyard-Planet Designation Alpha**

There were a few things light sabres couldn't cut through. One substance was called phrik. Juhani had deadly accuracy, and could achieve ruthless results with her sabre. Slicing open a defenceless man's throat was no problem for her. When she discovered however that the hooded man had phrik on his neck, she immediately shifted back into her stealth mode. The other Acolytes, their red blades thrumming, circled the hooded man. As the acolytes distracted him, Juhani searched with both her eyes and the force, her desire to kill her enemy driving her to find a weakness. The other acolytes struck, the Sith assassin swung his sabre horizontally at the hooded man. But the man's metallic hand suddenly grabbed the assassin's throat, breaking it with a single squeeze. The remaining Acolytes dipped into defensive stances, the Twi'lek master in particular kept his sabre raised.

Juhani rushed towards the man, finding her weakness, swinging her sabre at his shoulder. Her blade struck his cloak, sizzling it for a moment, before it was repelled. Feeling her feet slide against the floor, Juhani tried regaining her balance. With unnatural speed, the hooded man was in front of her. She quickly jumped back, gaining the high ground on top of the cockpit of a ruined shuttle. Gripping her sabre with both hands, her killer instincts surged as the hooded man jumped to meet her. A foolish move from any other combatant, Juhani aimed her light sabre for his waist, intending to take his legs and his arms with them.

But again her blade was repelled, and her anger intensified. Jumping to the other acolytes, Juhani joined them in formation. The hooded man jumped off of the shuttle, landing in a crouched position. He stood, his right hand gripping the collar of his cloak. The wind blew the cloak aside when the man moved his arm to the right, revealing himself. His armour wasn't made of phrik, in fact his protection was some kind of blue barrier. He wore a smaller version of the trooper helmet, most often associated with a branch of the shadow trooper program. A blue crystal of some kind was lodged into his right breast. Removing the light sabre from his belt, he ignited a purple blade. Suddenly, he rushed forward, propelling himself, temporarily passing out of existence. The acolytes could only see a blue blur move towards them. Juhani felt the force behind her, it sent the male human acolyte flying back, breaking his neck upon landing.

The armoured man's blue glow faded, standing in the middle of the group, as if waiting for the first strike. The Twi'lek struck first, horizontally swinging his sabre. His opponent raised his own weapon, blocking the Twi'lek's sabre. Then, as Juhani thrust her sabre forward, the man sidestepped, drawing the Twi'lek and Cathar's blades together. Turning to the human woman, he delivered a flurry of vicious strikes, using the Juyo style. His opponent attempted to counter, and thrust her blade towards his face. But he simply parried the blade, then swung his sabre across her chest. She fell back onto the dirt, her eyes wide in horrified surprise.

His shift from the aggressive Juyo, to the more controlled Makashi was flawless. He continued to hold his sabre one handed, in the Makashi form as Juhani and the remaining acolyte circled him. Both lost themselves in the darkside, drawing on their desire to tear the man apart. The Twi'lek manipulated several pieces of debris, creating a rain of spikes. Again their opponent's form shifted, gripping his sabre with both hands, he shuffled his feet as he deflected each spike. He treated them like bolts, employing the Soresu form. Juhani deactivated her sabre, lifted a huge piece of debris with her hands, and bought it down on her enemy.

Again he seemed to blink out of existence, not charging this time, but reappearing inches from the area Juhani crushed. He thrust his hand forward, pushing the object towards Juhani. She activated her blade as she jumped, attempting to strike the man's head. He blocked her attack, and the acolyte joined the fray. The armoured man continued blocking and parrying their strikes, employing the more random sword fighting style of Shii-Cho. He shot his foot out, kicking the Twi'lek master's chest. A crack ran across the acolyte's armour, a force push shattered the plate. The man then manipulated the shards with the force, throwing them at Juhani. She deflected several of them, using her own Soresu form. Then she jumped at her opponent, dodging his strikes and manoeuvring herself around him, continually striking at him. Combined with the force, Juhani increased the speed of her Ataru style.

The Twi'lek however still used Juyo, trying to overwhelm his opponent. But Makashi fuelled parries kept Juhani and the Twi'lek's swords hitting one another instead of their target. The man was using the weakness of both their forms, forms suited more for duelling. Whilst Juyo drew from aggression and could be used against multiple opponents, the acolyte's focus was on a single opponent, with an ally mixed in. He could only fight to the best of his ability alone. Likewise Juhani's Ataru was built purely for facing one opponent, and the addition of a partner made it useless.

Juhani pushed both the Twi'lek and their opponent back. She drew fully on the dark side of the force, remembering the anger she had when she was at the Dantooine academy. The power she gained at the grove returned to her, combined with the blissful liberation she felt on the Rakata world. She looked at the sky, smirking as she saw the bird like creatures that were indigenous to the world. Her mind's eye stretched further, controlling the reptilian/wolf hybrids like she had the Kath hounds. As the armoured man continued duelling with the Twi'lek, Juhani commanded her servants to attack.

The birds began to attack the armoured man, trying to blur his vision. They however got in the way of the Twi'lek, obscuring his vision instead. Both men put their trust in the force in one way or another. Juhani sensed her fellow dark Jedi use his anger like an arrow, to fly his sabre truly into the gut of his enemy. The armoured man however simply let the force guide his sabre, a light side technique. Putting everything he is, and everything he could be into the will of the force, trusting it. Juhani thought it foolish, yet the man blocked every strike the dark Jedi aimed at him. He swung his blade around, cutting down the bird creatures, coating his armour, and the armour of the Twi'lek in blood. Dragging his blade across the floor, he swung it upwards, catching the Twi'lek's shoulder. Releasing a cry of anger and pain, the Twi'lek attempted to strike the man again.

But the armoured man threw his hand forward, sending the birds flying at the Twi'lek. He cried out, the bird's razor sharp beaks piercing the skin on his face. The creatures were drawn to his blood, he cut them down one at a time. He failed to notice his opponent get behind him. With an overhead slash, the armoured man split the Twi'lek from his left shoulder.

As her four legged servants arrived, surrounding the armoured man, Juhani drew one of the scattered sabres to her free hand. Blue and red blades crossed together and Juhani stood, smiling at the prospect of killing the powerful enemy. He deactivated his sabre however and put a finger to the radio on his helmet.

"What is it Igna?" he asked.

"We've found it sir, we've found it," she said.

"You're too late hand of Revan," the armoured man turned his head towards Juhani.

The Cathar bared her fangs, snarling like an animal. Just as her enemy had at one time trusted in the light, Juhani threw herself into the dark, becoming primal like the beasts she drove to attack her target. Then she threw herself into battle.

Next Episode 14: The chosen one

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, it showed my first genuine light sabre battle between opponents who knew what they were doing. I know there wasn't any dialogue but that was the point, it didn't feel right for me, and for the scene for the fighters to be bantering back and forth between one another. I could have had Juhani yell "I WILL BE YOUR DOOM!" Maybe next chapter :)

Next time Daylen is taken by Kaius, for a battle in which only one of them will survive, and forever set the course of the other.


	14. Episode 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Dragon Age.

This chapter, some insight into Kaius's character. 22/12: Altered the chapters onwards to exclude galaxy far, far away scenes. The true Stars Wars universe will appear in the future, as it did in the first chapter.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 14: The chosen one

Daylen's eyes snapped open, but his vision was still unclear. He felt the dirt beneath him, the rocks sticking into his back. The chill that ran down his spine told him they were someplace high. Looking up, Daylen made out the horned silhoutte and red skin of Kaius. Suddenly, he felt a prick on his neck. Kaius withdrew the syringe, throwing it aside and stepping away from Daylen. The mage gripped his neck where the needle went in, his teeth gritting together as he felt his mana surge.

"A drug we developed, Kolto, mana potion, some adrenaline, a little something to help you get your strength back," Kaius stated.

He had his back to Daylen, and simply waited for Daylen to stand. The young man leant against the rock, nearly slipping on the snow. Daylen looked at his surroundings as his vision cleared. They were on a mountain.

"I also added in the ashes of Andraste," Kaius said.

"That's just a legend," Daylen refuted.

"A legend I kept well hidden."

Daylen turned fully towards Kaius, seeing Keili standing beside her master. Her eyes showed a great conflict, despite kneeling with Kaius, her lip trembled when Daylen looked at her. She shifted slightly, as if at any second she was going to rush towards him. Daylen stopped looking at her and continued analysing the surroundings, looking for any advantage. He stopped however when Kaius raised his hand. Kaius held the deactivated crossguard sabre high, smirking as shock spread across Daylen's face. Then when Daylen's face contorted in anger, Kaius's smile grew even wider.

"What have you done to my friends?" Daylen's voice came out as a growl.

He took a step forward, fire flaring in his hand, his eyes letting out a red glow.

"You'll have to find out," Kaius said.

With a mere flick of his wrist, he sent the handle flying towards Daylen. The mage grabbed the device, his feet sliding into a ready stance. Looking towards Kaius, Daylen felt fear again. The kind he experienced as a boy, waiting for one of the enchanters or templars to calm him. For a moment, Daylen experienced a flash, a vision of sorts. It wasn't the day for a brief moment, but night. Rain batted, for the briefest moment. Lightning flashed, and for the briefest moment, Kaius's face was replaced by a hooded visage.

"Why did you take me from the battle?" Daylen asked.

"What use do I have for an apprentice who will do whatever I ask?"

Kaius raised his hand, his face empty. Keili however struggled out of fear, feeling a grip on her throat. This unseen force lifted her off of the ground, and she looked towards Daylen for help. All of the rage and sadistic pleasure she felt as a Sith, faded when she looked at Daylen, her mouth whispered prayers for the maker to help her.

"That's enough, release her," Daylen said.

Tears fell out of Keili's eyes, in spite of everything she had done, Daylen still cared. She fought back with the force, trying to raise her hand to hit Kaius with a spell. Suddenly, he threw her to the side, over the rocks and away from Daylen's sight. He began running in that direction, when Kaius hit him with a force push. Daylen crossed his arms, the force slid him across the floor and when he lowered his arms, there was rage in his eyes.

"You Sith lords," he growled. "You imperials, you think you can just do whatever you want, kill whoever you want, Nelia, Kinnon, Merrill, Lily, all those people in the Dales...for no reason at all...what the hell...what the hell...IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

Suddenly, the white blades ignited and in a flash of blue, Daylen appeared beside Kaius, swinging the sword. Holding his sabre with one hand, Kaius ignited the red blade, locking it with Daylen's.

"Is that the limit of your anger boy? SHOW ME MORE!" Kaius yelled.

He threw Daylen back with the force, sliding the mage back first across the snow. Daylen quickly jumped to his feet and broke off into a run towards Kaius. As he got closer, he released fire from his hands, but with the force, Kaius redirected the flames. He bent the flames, then smothered them, making it as if Daylen had never used a fire spell. Then he raised his sabre, parrying Daylen's strike. Kaius brought his sabre up, inches from Daylen's neck.

"You need to do better, my apprentice," the Chagrian grinned as the anger continued to rise in his chosen.

* * *

It didn't start when Kaius had seen the boy. The meeting was very much like what Kaius remembered from his youth. He was the descendent of Chagrian colonists. People who left their home world to settle someplace new. His name then had been Kailius then. He was the son of an architect, turned builder by the empire's demand. The empire conquered Kailius's planet as part of an initiative to gain more worlds. More worlds meant more resources and more cannon fodder. As typical with the empire, Kailius's father was demoted to labour.

"At least we're together," he remembered his father saying, optimistically.

Kindness was hard to have in a slave community, especially one where your ration was dependent on the work you did. Kailius often had to eat a protein bar, the fact that it was made from mashed up bugs was something he quickly became numb too. People grew so desperate that they stole the disgusting bars, even killed younger slaves. Kailius never had to resort to cannibalism, he knew the handlers were entertained by the infighting of slaves.

"We're already their servants, don't become their entertainment," his father once said.

His mother and sister served the empire in their own ways. Kaila became a pleasure slave, shipped off world to some rich man with a penchant for extremely underage alien girls. Their mother was lucky enough to become a cook, before succumbing to illness. After that Kailius's father became less optimistic.

"Survive," was the most common thing he said.

The man gave him his rations, took the blame for his mistakes. Eventually the handler got so angry that he took his beatings too far.

"USELESS SLAVE SCUM! JUST DIE! AT LEAST THEN YOU'D HAVE A PURPOSE!" he yelled.

Examples were common, but it didn't have the affect the handler intended. Kailius made less mistakes, but only because he got that much better at building things. He was small, so he crawled into the places others couldn't. The gluttonous supply officer had a gap in his hut, and he often fell asleep. Kailius took food from the imperial reserves and gave it to the other slaves.

"May the force of others be with you," they said to him.

It was an old variant of the saying, one the Sith hadn't yet eradicated from the hearts of Chagrian people. Kailius got his first foray into murder, the day the supply officer cut rations. They had completed construction of a shopping complex. It would have been a time for reward, but the officer chose the opposite. Kailius snuck through the gap as he usually did. There, he found the man feasting on what he had denied the hard workers. Kailius had felt anger before, but this anger drove him to something he did not regret.

His strength shocked him, but he didn't regret punching the man's neck. At the time the man had food in his mouth, and awkwardly swallowed it. He fell to the floor, gasping for breath, skin turning purple as he choked. Kailius stayed, looking down at the man, judging him for his greed, hating him for his cruelty. There was no excitement or joy when the man finally died, the act was done. To a degree how easy it had been was what disgusted Kailius, but the thought of taking a life, with good reason did not bother him.

"It was justice, it was for a greater good," he told himself.

The supply officer was replaced by someone better at the job. Not kind by any means, but professional enough to seal up the crack. Still, there were no food shortages from then on.

"An imperial officer has been murdered, personally, I would like to have every last one of you shot, but you'll be needed for a new project. There must still be a punishment though, forty lashes!"

The handler personally did Kailius's punishment. His instincts told him that the man knew it was him, but couldn't prove it. So he whipped him, again and again, losing count of the lashes. Kailius's skin grew hard by the time he was considered a teenager. Any friends he made were sent off world for new jobs. But he was chosen to stay, always under the eye of the handler. It became the handler's mission to make Kailius suffer. When food went missing Kailius was beaten, when accidents happened, Kailius was beaten. The handler even whipped Kailius when he was just in a bad mood.

"You all had better be on your best behaviour today, Lord Vice is coming to inspect the grounds, and you. He is a Darth, a dark lord of the Sith, his authority surpasses mine by leagues. If he gives you an order, consider it a divine command, if you offend him, consider it a trespass against the divine. From the moment he graces your presence, consider yourselves his property," the handler explained to them all, the day Kailius's life changed forever.

That day Kailius was punished, for a crime he took the credit for. Or rather something he was blamed for, and didn't argue against. As the handler whipped him, Kailius saw for the first time Lord Vice. He was a human man in his late thirties. Brown haired, but with grey side burns, he was adorned in a black robe, gloves covered his hand, a belt was wrapped around his waist. The belt had a V shape on the buckle, and on his chest he wore armour, with V shaped ridges on the front of it. He wore an additional hooded robe, and even through the whipping, Kailius could make out the handle of the man's light sabre.

In the empire, stories were told of monsters in the republic, monsters called Jedi. But Kailius knew that the man walking through the slave grounds was the real monster. His yellow eyes, the dark rings around his eyes, even the way he carried himself. He was superior to everyone, whom all feared him. Looking at the dark lord, made Kailius strong, pain became a foreign concept to him. What the handler could do to him, was nothing compared to what Darth Vice could do. He stopped screaming, angering the handler.

"Well, at least he has more strength than his pathetic sack of a father," the handler said.

It was the last thing he ever said. Believing Kailius was broken, he turned around. Kailius then tackled him, moving at a speed the guards couldn't keep up with. By the time they realised what had happened, he was smashing the handler's head into a rock. Kailius didn't scream, but there was anger on his face. It was an amplified version of what he experienced when he killed the supply officer.

'I hate you, I hate you, die!' there was no justification, no desire for justice or even a need to avenge his father.

He wanted to kill this man, this man he hated with every fibre of his being. By the time the guards wrenched him free the man's head was already reduced to meat and bone fragments. Kailius didn't care that the troopers were ready to kill him, he still looked at them defiantly. He even glared at Vice, and it was then that the man raised his hand.

"My lord, what are you doing, this man..."

"He is a valuable asset, I will take him," on Vice's word, the troopers let go.

They didn't fit Kailius with a slave collar, or give Vice additional guards. Vice always journeyed on his personal light-freighter, the Solo-Caedus. It was a grey and red painted ship with sleek wings and a round body. Small enough to be as fast and nimble as a fighter, big enough for a collection of passengers. Vice had an astromech droid for repairs, a chrome grey R2 unit with no personality. The true ideal of a droid, it just moved from one task to the next, only speaking when there was a problem Vice should be made aware of.

When the long flight to nowhere began, Kailius also became aware of the human passengers on the Solo-Caedus. Or Kailius at least thought they were human, he had no real idea. They never spoke, or even moved at the time. Six men in grey robes and plastoid armour, variants of the kind of armour Kailius later learnt was used by the emperor's elite Praetorian guard. Their helmets though were simpler designs, not decorated at all. Two used halberds, two sword whips and the other two used linkable daggers. All of their weapons had energy generators inside them, enabling them to vibrate and go on even terms with a light sabre. Kailius would later learn the hard way that all of the men were trained in martial arts.

"They will be your sparring partners," Vice told him.

Vice told him little, only that from this point on, he would learn the ways of the force. His first lesson was on a beautifully lush and green world, a world untouched by the empire, untouched by technology. Its native species were at balance with one another, the oceans and air were clean. Kailius had not yet learnt to connect himself to the force, but he felt at peace there.

"Stand, stand tall and close your eyes, keep your breathing steady and concentrate, open your mind," Vice said.

"Open my mind, I don't understand," Kailius said.

"Lower your defences just this once boy, lower them and reach out with your feelings. Then you'll feel it!"

As Kailius did this, he felt for the first time all the life around him. The death too, predators hunting their prey, feeding their young, nature destroying animals whom weren't strong enough.

"Life, light and darkness, can you feel it?" Vice asked him.

"I can, I can," Kailius whispered, in awe of just how broad his senses had become.

"Now you are ready."

Vice force pushed Kailius, knocking him unconscious. When he woke up, he as alone, on a planet with no technology or way of him getting a signal for help. He had also been stripped of his clothes, and the winter season was beginning. After a few days of freezing and starving, Kailius made his decision, he would not die. After six months Vice returned, and found that Kailius had gotten stronger. He wasn't the skinny child anymore, and he had learnt how to kill out of true necessity.

In the years that followed, Vice took Kailius on his military campaigns. Vice always fought at the front, and in his first battle only gave Kailius a vibroblade. With each battle, and world they conquered, Kailius's strength, savagery and skills of warfare grew. His power over the darkside too grew, Vice's best training was encouraging Kailius to explore the force by himself. He constructed his first light sabre at eighteen, tortured someone at nineteen, and killed his sparring partners at twenty. By then he was allowed to fully clothe himself as a Sith acolyte, and even live in the Sith capital.

It was thanks to Vice that he had changed his life, but that was only the beginning.

* * *

Daylen looked from the thrumming red beam near his neck, to the yellow eyes of the Chagrian in front of him. Kaius continued to hold Daylen in place, grinning. His eyes looked to Daylen's hand, it had twitched for a moment. The young mage thought of swinging the blade up, but there was a chance Kaius could catch the blade with his hand, or if he was accurate enough, cut off Daylen's hand altogether. He was thinking, and thinking, of taking a step back to adjust his position. But then Kaius might cut his throat, he was an accomplished swordsman, he wouldn't slash vertically the way Daylen needed him to. The killing strike would be a horizontal slash. His feet shuffled slightly, his red eyes glaring into Kaius's.

Without even swinging their blades they were fighting a battle. Daylen felt the tendrils of the dark side on his mind, urging him to give in to anger. Kaius too was faced with an attack by the light side, that small part of him that had not yet surrendered to the Sith. It was the light, even though Kaius knew he could never perform acts of good, regardless of that, there was still a light within him. He had spent the past few hours, looking into a mirror. When he stood on the spire, able to see every rebel fighting, he saw himself. That open defiance, that he had so long ago forgotten, it was like a painting to him. He found more beauty in conflict, in men and women, no matter the species, fighting for a cause. The cause itself didn't matter, only the determination each side portrayed when fighting.

Fighting for what you believed in, was more beautiful than any phenomenon in the galaxy. It was the purest form of sapient expression. Relationships and bonds could be fickle, ever changing. But when you had a cause that you believed in with all your heart, a real cause not some zealot belief, but something that was truly worth believing in. When two people had found those causes, causes that had nothing to do with the force. When those causes opposed one another, they were grander, and Kaius believed more important than the will of absentee gods, or the illusive force.

He saw in Daylen's eyes that focus, the focus on defeating his enemy. The young man went through every possible scenario, determined that it would be ineffective. He knew his power wasn't enough to defeat the better trained dark Jedi. Yet still, he kept searching for a way, never giving up. Both men closed their eyes, one focusing on the force, the other on the fade. Through the force, Kaius felt what Daylen felt, determination. That determination drew many spirits and demons towards Daylen, yet they all quivered and ran away, when Pride came to watch.

 **"Pride comes before a fall mage,"** Mouse grinned. **"Won't you draw from me?"**

'You know my answer,' Daylen thought.

Both men opened their eyes, Daylen's pupil's had narrowed into slits, whilst Kaius's were ecstatically wide. Kaius swung his sword, literally through Daylen. The mage's skin was like a ghost for a brief moment. He brought his sabre around, hitting Kaius's blade so hard to it made him slide back. Kaius Move forward, locking blades with Daylen's. The mage's free hand twitched, electricity sparked down his arm, before a blade of energy appeared. Kaius quickly drew his second light sabre, locking it with the arcane blade. Daylen's eyes continued to glow, and Kaius began to laugh. They moved swiftly, trying to slash one another, their blades meeting every time they swung their arms.

Unleashing a flurry of blows against one another, they spread sparks of electricity across the ground, left tracks across the dirt. One struck, the other parried, then repeated the process. From a distance, it looked like a coordinated dance, both fighters in synch with one another. But in truth, both were unleashing their rage, one desperate to kill the other, the other gleefully pushing them. Their blades dragged together, both rising high, their wielders aiming one another's swords to the sky. A grin met a glare, before they roared, one spreading fire, the other force, shaking the ground as it burned.

Then it happened, they slammed their blades together, so hard that they were thrown away from one another. Kaius landed on his feet, whilst Daylen rolled onto his back, before sliding to his knees. The former Sith Lord smiled, seeing that Daylen still prepared to fight. That unique effect, that made his eyes look like an animal's, had faded.

"Finally you've shown it, that rage I have always wanted of you, that rage that takes you from the edge of darkness, and into the abyss," Kaius said.

He crossed his sabres together, bowing his head, before he assumed a fighting stance again. Daylen took a few deep breaths and stood up, pointing his sabre at Kaius.

"I don't know what your end game is, but it doesn't matter what you offer, I am not going to become your apprentice, which leaves me no other option but to defeat you," the mage explained.

"Oh, but there is another one," Kaius chuckled, his eyes then narrowed, his face becoming empty.

"You can die," the dark Jedi said.

"Like I said, there's no other option," Daylen retorted, before he rushed forward.

* * *

 **Planet Designation Alpha**

The man in the armour had hounds on his arms, trying to break through his shell. Birds and other beasts swooped down from the sky. Then there was Juhani, their mistress, their queen via the darkside. She brandished her sabres, cutting through some of her pets to get to him. A barrier of blue energy surrounded him, making him float upwards. Then he suddenly shifted backwards, igniting his sabre as soon as he landed. He pulled one of the hounds towards him, not with the force, but with the same blue energy that formed his barrier. Throwing it like a rocket, he crushed several of the beasts, barely missing Juhani. She brought her sabres up, again barely blocking the armoured man's strike. He slammed his heel into her chest, throwing her back.

Juhani felt the blood in her chest, the man's strength was immense. Her ribs had cracked, lungs had been bruised and she already found it hard to breathe. She grit her fangs together, glaring at the armoured man as he again deactivated his sabre and put a hand to his helmet. He was talking to his lieutenant, telling her to wait for him, to carry out a 'containment protocol'. Whatever it was, she didn't care, her master had given her a mission, and she would not fail.

Her master, the chosen one, the one who would bring the light and the dark to its knees. The one who elevated them to more than just Sith, to transcend both the light and the dark.

'By your teachings Master Revan I swear, I will not fail,' she vowed.

She raised her sabres, one of the light, the other of the dark, both her eyes changing to match them. The light and the dark flowed through her, one aiding, the other obeying her. With a hiss she rushed forward.

"I WILL BE YOUR DOOM!"

Next Episode 15: The Abyss

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, the vicious fight continues next chapter


	15. Episode 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Dragon Age

Altered the chapter to include the added details of Kaius's past.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 15: The Abyss

Two servants of the grey clashed, neither fully loyal to either side of the force, only their own dreams. For Daylen it was obvious, free his people of the empire. But he didn't fully understand why Kaius fought, the man's motives seemed only chaotic. But as their sabres clashed again and again, Daylen saw flashes of an alien world, and a life that could have been his at one time.

* * *

The Sith academy at Dromund Kaas, had been full of human xenophobes. Kailius stood out as the only Chagrian there, though not the only alien. He attended the academy by choice, desiring a disciplined and organised training routine. Enduring the xenophobia would also test his patience and restraint, things necessary for a general. His own teachers tried goading a response from him, urging him to unleash his rage, to give in to his passions. He learnt about passions there, but not the way the instructors were hoping.

He developed bonds with people, finding an unexpected friend in a human man named Jaden. They often snuck off into the capital city, pretending they weren't Sith trainees. They would drink and run from the security services, revelling in the thrill of the trouble they caused. A form of rebellious youth, but that wasn't all there was to their friendship. They discussed with one another their ambitions and dreams. Kailius desired strength above all else, Jaden knowledge. The Chagrian wanted to be a great warrior, whilst Jaden wished to apply his skills to imperial intelligence and rid it of the corruption that had over taken it.

Kailius even found love in the city, with a Togruta woman. To him, she was beauty personified, as kind as anyone could be in the empire. When they danced in the moonlight, and later made love, Kailius felt both peace and passion. It intoxicated him and strengthened his resolve. He fully intended to marry this woman one day. But a year into the academy, and everything changed. Jaden was pushed into completing his acolyte training quickly, he passed if course, and then was sent to imperial intelligence. Kailius never heard from him again, he had no idea if Jaden had succeeded in his dreams or died.

Then, the woman he loved, was accused of thievery. She was executed, and the rage inside Kailius boiled. He unleashed his anger at the academy, killing many for the sheer sake of his anger. When Darth Vice collected him, he confessed to having engineered the whole thing.

"She died because you did not have the strength to protect her," he told Kailius.

Moving forward from that moment, Kailius became even more determined to surpass his master. Decades passed and hundreds of souls fell at the hands of Kailius's sabres. More and more though, Kailius saw his master getting older, and suffering because of it. Killing him wouldn't have brought him the satisfaction he wanted.

* * *

Kaius thrust his right sabre at Daylen, whom ducked and swung his sabre upwards. The Sith sidestepped the blow and parried the follow up strikes. He moved his sabres, blocking each of Daylen's moves. Then he threw a fake, trying to confuse Daylen. He moved to the right, then the left, adjusting his sabres in the middle of his swing. Daylen however darted backwards, in a blue light that lingered over him as he recovered. The use of his magic didn't displease Kaius, he wanted Daylen to use whatever means he could to kill him. Daylen deactivated his sabre and put his hand on the ground. Pillars of rock began rising, forming a blockade. Then spikes burst out of the ground, but Kaius was already in the air, jumping to another area.

He quickly dived to the side, dodging a fireball thrown by Daylen. The mage ran after the former lord, who left a trail by dragging his sabres. Daylen released a cloud of fire from his hand, trying to reach Kaius. But he was fast, using the force to propel himself forward. He was so fast that he left a mark in the dirt when he stopped. Kaius then ran towards Daylen, again using the force to increase his speed. He moved like a bullet, barely dodging the wall of ice spikes the mage formed. Kaius ran around Daylen, thrusting his sabres towards his back.

Daylen's skin became clear like a ghost's, the sabres passed through Daylen. He then did something that shocked and confused Kaius. Partially solidifying, he trapped Kaius, and then covered his body in electricity. Daylen became a lightning generator, filling Kaius with currents of nerve frying volts. Kaius yelled in pain, a pain that quickly became a laugh. He lifted them both into the air with the force. Kicking Daylen in the back, he threw him face first into the ground, and landed himself gracefully on his feet.

"Good, good," he said.

"You're holding back aren't you?" Daylen asked.

"Something tells me if I didn't hold back, the fight would be over already, if I went all out, you wouldn't get a chance to learn anything," Kaius explained.

"I told you, I'm not going to become your apprentice," Daylen said.

"That doesn't mean I can't have taught you anything, you're learning more and more with each move aren't you?" the Chagrian asked.

The young man grit his teeth together, standing up and igniting his sabre. He looked at his arcane sword, again he thought 'why limit it to a sword'. Concentrating on the construct, in ways Knight-Enchanters didn't, he formed a massive gauntlet on his arm, encased around the sword. The armour spread to his shoulder, forming an adequate defence for his arm. Again Kaius whistled, impressed, and again Daylen charged.

* * *

Gaspard De Chalons was a warrior, a man of honour, or so he had tried to be during the imperial occupation. He found it somewhat ironic, during his youth most of the world regarded Tevinter as the embodiments of evil, elves at one time hated humans for robbing them of their culture, the Chantry hated the Qunari for being a different philosophy, and Ferelden despised Orlais for its occupation. Gaspard loved his country, he continued to be loyal to it during the Ferelden occupation, even with his cruel grandfather on the throne. He fought their rebellion and lost, he respected their strength, yet mourned for the loss of Orlais's fief.

Then the empire came, and everything in Gaspard's life changed, he changed. The empire changed him, how he saw the world and even his country. Love for his country remained strong, because his country was part of the world, the planet. He loved his planet, one primitive world in a galaxy that was bigger than his tutors told him it was. Despite all the faults it had, that he had come to fully embrace, he still loved it, because it was his. One thing though that Gaspard kept, was his belief in honour. Even in war, you maintained a certain conduct, there were things you simply didn't do.

Gaspard stood on what he felt the empire would never do, because he believed there were men in it who had honour. Gathering ashes into his gloved hands, he looked at them in shock. Once, it had been a pipe dream for any human to step foot on the Dales, the new homeland of the elves. Gaspard and his entourage walked on it, or what was left of it. Ashes, scorched earth, nothingness really. An anguished cry drew Gaspard's attention to Michel, one of the younger rebels. An elf blooded boy, he was on his knees, looking at the ashes and shaking his head.

But it couldn't be denied, the empire had become true evil. It was no longer something Gaspard could scoff at, but something he could believe, and use. As tragic as the destruction of the Dales was, it painted the empire in just the light that the Orlesian resistance needed it to be in.

"Rest easy, wherever you are, you no longer need to suffer the empire's cruelty," Gaspard said, just loud enough for his men, human and elf to hear him. He let the ashes fly out of his hands, and watched them fly high. "And know that one day, you will be avenged!"

* * *

Halward Pavus had been reading, in preparation for meeting with the imperial senate, when he received word of what had happened to the Dales. His son Dorian rushed into his office, his youthful face sweating.

"They've done it, they actually went and did it," Dorian said.

There was rage in his eyes too. The servants steered clear as Dorian advanced towards his father. They had a tumultuous relationship at the best of times. Yet the household knew that, since Dorian's mother had become a Sith apprentice, the father and son became closer.

"A great of light, and then only ashes are left, we know that that is just the start, if they gathered enough of it, or if they aimed the weapon in just the right place, they could wipe out the whole fucking planet," Dorian explained.

"I know," Halward said.

"Can't you do anything? The senate mustn't stand for this, it shouldn't."

"The senate is simply a charade, it creates the illusion that we are in control of the occupation, our position is greater than what other nations have, but remember Dorian that we are still prisoners," Halward explained, walking away from his desk and onto their balcony.

Both men were patriots, but Halward was no fighter. His arena was politics, the games of deceptions, alliances and negotiations. Dorian had studied combat magic, and was a good necromancer. A Munn Sith Lord even approached him once about sharing research, Dorian gave him insights into necromancy, and 'Hego Damask' taught him about medical science. Dorian joined his father on the balcony, looking at the country they both loved. Tevinter and imperial banners fluttered side by side, showing the illusion of the imperium being valuable, even equal to the empire.

"Masters," one of their servants bowed to them. "Magister Alexius and his son, Felix have arrived."

"Thank you Frederic," Halward nodded to the man, and father and son made their way to the lounge.

Despite the leap in technology, the Pavus household still remained very much in the dragon age. Wooden chairs, a wooden table between them and their guests, with candles lighting the room. Alexius and his son Felix, were both friends, the latter being Dorian's teacher at one time. They wore the standard garb of Tevinter nobility, yet lacked the smug superiority most of them, including Halward had.

"How are you both?" Alexius asked.

"Well all things considered, the senate has begun to shrink more and more, granting more power to regional governor Lambert," Halward said.

"Who as we know is reporting under Moff Uclas, the very man whom had the authority to fire that weapon," Alexius added.

"Were there rebels in the Dales?" Felix asked.

"Does it matter? They wiped the whole region out, maps will have to be redrawn because of that, not to mention the abuse this weapon is open to," Dorian explained.

"Dorian, you've made your point," Halward said.

"Oh I haven't even begun to make it, this isn't a senatorial debate father, we all came here because we disagree with it, the only question is, are we going to do something about it?"

A proud look crossed Halward's face, likewise Alexius looked proudly at Dorian. It was far different than any kind of pride Halward had though. There were few times Dorian saw him as his son, this was one of those times. A time he felt true pride as a father.

"I believe we need to begin making plans," Alexius said.

Halward nodded his head in agreement.

"I would like to suggest the formation of an organisation, perhaps an alliance of sorts!"

* * *

Meredith Stannard knew she was a cold woman, she knew others often referred to her as evil. She liked to think she was a necessary evil, even with the imperial occupation, mages were still a very real danger. She had seen firsthand how dangerous they could be, how even someone as innocent as her sister could fall to weakness and temptation. Her sister, no, the monster she became slaughtered many before she was put down. Meredith remained loyal to the chantry, and above all the cause of the templars.

'We are all that stands between mages and the people of Thedas, we are charged with protecting both from one another,' Meredith believed.

She had been patrolling the streets of Kirkwall, without her helmet. It was a tactic to remind the people of Kirkwall that she was present, watching them. Sympathy for mages had gone up since Karl's maiming, and Meredith was sure Orsino was planning something. Worst of all, accomplished knights like Thrask and Maurevar had disappeared, taking a few recruits with them. There were also whispers that a lyrium addict Samson was helping mages and sympathisers for a price.

'Criminals, murderers and traitors,' Meredith thought as she walked into the house her fellow templars had destroyed.

The bodies were still there, flies picking at them. Now that she was alone, Meredith lowered her head. She had stopped crying a long time ago, the regret in her eyes was as close as she could get to grief.

"There it is," a voice spoke from the shadows.

Meredith's hand reached for the blaster at her hip.

"Come out," she commanded.

A woman in a cloak and hood stepped out. She raised her hands, lifting off her hood.

"Elthina," Meredith looked at her old friend in shock.

"Surprise, I'm not dead, neither is the resistance, I can't say the same for the elves, tensions are high of course. At some point I believe the elves in the alienage will riot over this," the former revered mother explained.

"They can't win, there would be no point to them rebelling," Meredith said.

"Yes, but there is another point of view, the empire can destroy them, wipe them out completely, they have nothing to lose, when its freedom or death, they'll always choose freedom, even if it means dying for it," Elthina explained.

Meredith pulled out her pistol, aiming it at Elthina.

"You are wanted Elthina, how did you think this would end?" Meredith asked.

"I had hope you'd see the error of your ways and help me fight the empire," Elthina smiled confidently despite the situation.

"I have sworn an oath to the order, to the chantry," the Knight-Commander retorted.

"The order and even the Chantry are bigger than the empire, they are things that should not be changed by a political power, not even Andraste truly created them. They are not about the buildings or the armour, but the ideals behind them," Elthina remained still, but lowered her hands, not threatened in the least by Meredith's weapon.

"What are you saying?" Meredith asked.

"That the moment the empire showed that it wanted to impose its will on the mages, it removed you of any loyalty you have to them," Elthina said.

"Loyalty is loyalty because it cannot be broken, my oath is resolute, no matter the situation I cannot get involved. Once you believed the same Elthina, innocent blood was being spilt and you stood by, because that is the duty of the chantry, it cannot condone disorder," Meredith explained.

"I was a fool," the words her old friend spoke, shocked Meredith.

Elthina had not always been a priest. She wasn't quite a bard, but she had been sinful, she gambled, and loved both men and women. Yet, she became the most holy of sisters that Meredith remembered, her only ally for a time. Even as the empire began to rise, Elthina preached of restraint. In her eyes, the chantry had to be above resorting to bloodshed.

"I preached of restraint, of trusting in the Maker. The Maker will not free us, because the maker has given us the power to free ourselves," Elthina said.

"They're all going to die," Meredith retorted.

"Perhaps," Elthima hummed. "Perhaps that is the price of freedom from the empire, they aren't gods Meredith, and they're closer to demons than even the apostates you track!"

Elthina turned to walk away.

"Wait, I can't let you just walk away, you're under arrest," Meredith ran after Elthina.

She crossed her hands behind her back, allowing Meredith to cuff her.

"What I said before, 'there it is', I meant the proof that you are still human, it's your eyes Meredith, it's your eyes," Elthina said.

But when they got out of the house, Meredith's cold expression returned.

* * *

 **The Edge**

Tenebrous and Plagueis sat in their shuttle, looking at two things. First there was the weapon Uclas had built. As an engineer, Tenebrous studied every meticulous detail of the station. It was big enough to be supported by a minimum crew count, and to house a small squad of fighters. Uclas was arrogant, but he backed up the defence of the station with a Star Destroyer. Despite this, Tenebrous spotted a weakness in the station itself, a design flaw that was unforgivable from an engineering perspective. As he looked at the weapon, Plagueis looked at the planet, his eyes closing several times.

"Are there any survivors at all?" Tenebrous asked his former pupil.

"None, the weapon is biological in a sense. The force of the beam levels the blast radius, but the radiation from the lyrium internally attacks every organic in the said radius. It breaks them down until only ashes remain, at least that is what I've been able to sense, and judge from their small scale tests," Plagueis explained.

"You really want to go down there and study the fall out area don't you?"

"You know me too well, Uclas certainly built a devastating weapon, but that's all it is," Plagueis said.

"Ah, your belief that there still lies a power in the force more devastating than science," Tenebrous shook his head as he spoke.

"Are you sceptical?" Plagueis asked.

"Of course not, I know there is great power in the force, I am proof of that. You killed me Plagueis, you crushed me underneath rubble, as is our way. If not for the hooded man pulling me out, and proving his superiority to you, I would remain very much dead. It was you, 'Plagueis the wise' who found a way to use the force to master life and death," Tenebrous used quotations for his student's nickname, his Bith mouth unable to make an amused smile.

"You continue to live my former master, because of the hooded man's charity, not mine," Plagueis said.

"I know, I also know he kept me alive for my connections in our own galaxy, as well as to see if someone resurrected by the force remains alive over a period of time," Tenebrous stated, looking away from the station and at the planet.

His eyes narrowed, feeling something in the force, what Plagueis also sensed. But they continued their conversation, speaking of Tenebrous's continued belief in science over the force. The force was something that gifted only certain people. Science and technology was something that could be wielded by all. Though it took a great mind to create something like the orbital weapon, it was something anyone could use. In Tenebrous's eyes, scientific discovery still trumped mastery over the force.

When the conversation ended, they both looked at the planet and felt the conflict in the force. Two people, both standing on the thing ledge between the darkness and the light. One a Sith like them, yet he had abandoned the plan, whilst the other was something else. Three others, strong in the force in different ways. Four untouched by the force, yet for some reason, they had important roles in the future. Five years of rebellion, before a grand battle that would change the galaxy forever.

Both Sith Lords were gifted with visions from the force. With every clash of the white and red sabre blades, they saw flashes. They saw the day they would inevitably fight one another, no falling rubble, just them proving which one had truly mastered the techniques of the force. The Jedi and Sith facing each other in open war, and darker things. An empire that challenged both the republic and the Sith, an ancient threat from another galaxy. And something much younger, something that originated from Thedas, something that would be a blight upon the universe.

The last images terrified even them, and instead they focused completely on the moment. Kaius and Daylen Amell, both men standing on the edge. With only one who could survive.

* * *

Cullen, Leliana, Alistair, Niall, Jowan, Loghain and Petra all rode towards where Daylen was as fast as they could. Leliana was the one leading them, she was so adamant that they were going the right way. Strangely Alistair and Cullen agreed, they had little choice anyway. The three mages were desperate to help their friend, and Loghain needed Daylen's help in leading the rebellion. He didn't think so before, but now he knew that Daylen would be an important person in the days ahead.

"We're getting closer, I can feel it," Leliana said.

Alistair nodded his head. They had reached the mountains, supposedly where the ashes of Andraste had been sighted. That's when they felt it, the explosions of fire, the crackle of electricity and the wind created by force waves. They climbed over the rocks and looked towards where the battle was taking place. Kaius had his red sabres locked with Daylen's white one and arcane sword. They slid away from one another, then came together again, parrying, pulling feints, trying to kill the other. Daylen lunged, Kaius parried, he counter attacked, and Daylen pulled his head back, bringing his blade down, only for Kaius to side step the blow, and swing his sabres around, but Daylen blocked them with sabre, and thrust his arcane sword. A force wave threw them both apart, and Kaius laughed, force lightning crackling between his finger tips.

"Your friends are here Daylen, they're bearing witness to this battle," he said.

Daylen looked at the hand he held his arcane blade in. The arcane blade itself had faded, as had the armour. Kaius then threw his hands forward, releasing the volts. Daylen held his sabre forward, blocking the full brunt of the attack, yet several bolts still singed his face. When the lightning faded, Kaius was in front of him, hitting his sabre with such force that it threw him back. Kaius then swung his head around, slicing Daylen's cheek with his horns. Landing in a crouch, Daylen thrust his sabre forward, but much to his shock, Kaius caught the blade with his bare hand. He pushed his hand down the length of the blade, crushing the hilt.

Leliana and Jowan screamed, as Kaius ruthlessly swung his sabre through Daylen's right wrist. They watched the hand fall to the ground in horror, and Kaius then pushed Daylen back. But still Daylen stood, his knees shaking, raising a small shield to protect himself from force lightning. With marksman like precision, Kaius narrowed his force bolt, breaking through Daylen's barrier and burning a mark across the right side of his face, two marks, one on his forehead, the other on the bridge of his nose, both travelling underneath his eye and joining into a single burn. Kaius relished the pain he had put Daylen through, marking him like property.

"Why did he fight him, why didn't he try to get away?" Loghain asked, pitying Daylen, finding his attempts to beat Kaius laughable.

Daylen had shown a talent for the sword, Loghain could see it in his makeshift technique. But Kaius was the more practiced swordsman, and he had the physical advantages of his species, and a life time of intense physical training. Daylen was in good shape for a mage, but still limited. He was out of mana, he had too much pride to draw from the force. The boy looked at his right hand, now only a stump, it shook as he closed his eyes, small tears falling down his face. When he opened his eyes, they were yellow and glaring at Kaius with true hatred.

"You didn't want me to hold back, this is what happens when you fight Sith Lords, when you aren't trained properly," Kaius said.

He looked towards the rebels, licking his lips.

"When you die, your friends die, that's what happens when you lose boy, your friends suffer for it. I'm going to kill them Daylen, everyone you've ever loved, which from what Surana said is a lot of people. You care about strangers, so I'll kill them, their deaths will not be quick, or painless boy. I'll teach you that unless you stop give yourself fully to the darkside, everyone you love will die just as everyone I loved died," the Chagrian explained, again gathering force lightning.

"Then why do this? Damn it you've gotten what you wanted, just STOP!" Daylen yelled, lightning gathering in his fingertips.

"That's it boy, jump over the edge and into the darkness, it's the only way to save your friends," Kaius said.

"My friends," Daylen whispered, looking towards them.

He saw them, standing their ground as Kaius advanced towards them. He saw them die, saw them burn, heard them scream, saw them turn to ashes.

"What is this?" he asked.

He couldn't feel pain in his hand anymore, instead he could feel his fingers move. The fingers were metal, covered by a gauntlet, the kind Sith acolytes used. A cloak fluttered behind him, and he felt a metal mask over his face. He looked down, seeing everyone, Leliana, Alistair, Loghain, Wynn, the Twi'lek who helped him in the tower, everyone, every rebel and people he somehow knew he had yet to meet and cherish. Men and women of various races, people in matching robes, holding deactivated light sabres, men in some kind of Storm trooper armour, and other armours, a man with his helmet ripped open, it had been some kind of breathing mask. Aliens he knew weren't from his galaxy or the empire's galaxy. His hand was holding the red light sabre of a Sith.

"No, no, this, is this my future?"

 _"It doesn't have to be!"_

His hands were red, the skin was red, he felt a pair of horns on his head, tentacles hanging off of his shoulder. He was Kaius, his loved ones were dead, including a blue skinned daughter, and a woman he loved.

 _"Don't give into hatred Daylen, the force is with you."_

"You keep saying that, the force is with me, but which part, the darkness or the light. Damn it, I'm so tired of this, darkness, light, they're all choices aren't they. I can choose both can't I?"

 _"Oh Daylen, I love you, but it is naive of you to believe that there won't be consequences to taking action. I know that you knew the rebellion would have consequences, but did you fully grasp that there would be consequences to crossing a dark side user."_

 _ **"Oh shut up Surana, stop filling his head with all this nonsense. The force, dark side, light side, good and evil, you know things are grey Daylen."**_

"Mouse," Daylen snarled.

 _ **"Daylen, this is simple, your friends are going to die, unless you do something to help them. Do whatever you have to, whatever means you have available to you, damn the consequences."**_

"Stop it, both of you," Daylen fell back, into the abyss.

He was himself again, falling, his eyes fluttering shut, blood pouring out of the cut on his cheek.

"DAYLEN!"

He opened his eyes and saw a light ahead of him. Through that light, he saw Kaius hitting barriers conjured by Petra, Jowan and Niall, the force lightning threatening to break through. Like him, they were drawing only from their will power.

"I can use the darkness," Daylen said.

"I have something he doesn't," he concentrated, on his blood.

He drew from the power in blood, the blood coming from his cheek flowed around him.

"Something that'll pull me out of the darkness, so long as I keep them close, so long as I never go against them," the blood shaped itself around his head, his knees and shoulders, and left arm.

He opened his eyes, gone was the yellow, the red was back, narrowed again, focused like a beast hunting.

"KAIUS!"

The Chagrian stopped assaulting the rebels, and ignited his light sabres. He turned, blocking a strike from a lance. The lance was made of red energy, and the wielder's eyes also glowed. It was Daylen, again using arcane warrior/knight enchanter magic in ways the real thing didn't. Red armour had formed across his left arm, which held the conjured lance tightly. Armour on his chest and back had arms attacked to them, both of which held thick shields. His head was covered completely by a red helmet, with a saw like blade and horn on the forehead.

"You've shown me your true power Kaius, let me show you mine, you have the force, but I have something better," Daylen shoved Kaius back and raised his lance into a charge position. "LET ME SHOW YOU!"

* * *

Thedas was where everything changed for Kailius. By then he had changed his name to Kaius, and had become respected and feared throughout the military. Yet still he was considered the apprentice of Darth Vice. Vice who was a pale shadow of the great warrior he was in his youth. Dark side degradation and had taken its toll on Kaius's master. The old man took to wearing a mask, to hide not just his age, but the deformities that had formed from drawing from the dark side, which had become a necessity in order to continue fighting as well as he could.

With every rebellion they put down, Kaius noticed that his master was slower. Not just in his body or reactions, but his mind too. Orders came out unclear, and he was prone to mood swings, anger over the smallest of things, and in their private moments tears. Vice confessed that he feared the empire was finished. It was clear to Kaius that his master was suffering from some human degeneration in his brain too. Vice studied magic from the circles, searing for a way to fix his condition. In his rage filled rants, Vice had even mentioned essence transfer. The closest Vice ever came to immortality was a holocron he had made in his youth.

Kaius killed his master out of pity, but also because the empire could not afford a mad man. He took his place as a dark lord of the Sith, earned the titled of Darth and resumed the military domination of Thedas. It was during that time that Kaius faced in single combat, a lord whose name he did not care for at the time, from a city he didn't care if he forgot. The man fought bravely, using a spear enchanted by numerous runes, burning with a fire that matched Kaius's sabre. But he of course fell to Kaius's blade, as he expected. That however was the day Kaius met a remarkable boy, whom, angered by the loss of his loved one, unleashed a power he should have manifested at puberty.

That was the day Kaius met Daylen Amell, the one who would be his apprentice.

* * *

Region Unknown

Juhani continued trying to kill the masked man, swinging her sabres with all the anger she could muster. She remembered her old master, her time on Dantooine, the will or Revan. He taught her the true nature of the force, the power that was in the abyss. But the masked man, whilst before he seemed indifferent, drawing out the fight, now he had increased his pace. His strikes were harder, knocking her off balance. The blue energy he controlled ripped apart the beasts Juhani tried to use, his light sabre too cut them down. He was going to kill her, she wasn't a threat to him, in fact it was debatable as to whether she had been. Yet still, survival instincts took over, Juhani fought hard to live, to see her master again, even if she had failed him.

'Master Revan, I am sorry, he was just too powerful, he's more powerful than you thought he would be,' Juhani thought.

She screamed as the man cut off her hand, deactivating his sabre and taking her by the throat. He grabbed her other hand, moving her blue sabre to her head.

"Tell me do you serve a pretender, or is Darth Revan truly alive?" he asked.

"I carry out his will," Juhani said.

"But is he alive, have you received actual orders from him?"

There was frustration in his voice, and Juhani smirked. Despite the inevitability of her death, she had beaten her opponent in one aspect of the fight.

"You'll have to wait to find out," she said.

The masked man raised Juhani off of the ground, tightening his grip on her. He squeezed, and squeezed, feeling the bone shatter to bits in his hand. Dropping the body to the ground, he looked up at the sky. He could see them, sense them, the exile and the Echani had come.

"Igna, is the site secure?" he asked over the radio.

"Yes my lord, we are awaiting your arrival," the Chiss said.

She looked towards the 'precursor' technology, triangular consoles that had been set out across the metallic chamber. They somewhat resembled Sith Holocrons, yet didn't give off the intimidating vibe they did. The special forces members stayed still, hearing the footsteps of their master. He walked down the steps, looking around the chamber, his expression unreadable due to his mask. His hand floated over the console, he stretched out with the force, activating the consoles as if activating a Holocron. The consoles opened one by one, revealing orb like devices built into the consoles.

"Remove your helmets and armour," he told his men.

They began taking off the plates of armour on their suits, dropping their weapons to the ground as they walked to the consoles. When the masked man nodded his head, they placed their hands on the orbs. Igna too did the same and even through her gloves, felt the warmness within the orb. Her masked master gripped his right wrist. Layers of an orange hologram covered his right hand, forming a gauntlet of some kind. He then swept his hand over the console, causing the orb within it to start rotating, and eventually rise. It released static shocks underneath it, making lines across the console glow red. Then, the other consoles activated, red lights spreading across the men and women holding them. Igna felt as if her skin was cracking, energy surging through her.

"No more Storm trooper armour, no more Star Destroyers, you will each receive the peak of military power. But first, you must die!"

Upon hearing the man's words, they began to scream, feeling their life force being ripped away from them. Igna jerked just like the others, unable to let go of the orb. She looked up at the ceiling, her eyes glowing green as she screamed.

Next Episode 16: What he has

* * *

Next time, the battle between Daylen and Kaius reaches its end


	16. Episode 16

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Dragon Age

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 16: What he has

"Focus, concentrate, maintain control of the spell and remember, it is your power, no one else's, control is in your hands no one else. Remember?"

"Yes Enchanter Irving," Daylen said.

He was in the long, blue robes of a Ferelden mage, forming shapes with mana. Other students were able to form complicated religious symbols and runes, the kind for making traps or locks. He brought his hands together, forming a ball. Fifteen years old, and a ball was the best he could do. Irving shook his head for a moment before Daylen shattered the construct.

"Okay, so magical runes need some work, you won't be making fire mines any time soon," Irving said.

Daylen sat on the floor, shaking his head for the umpteenth time. Irving had been through this with him over and over. He'd read all the books, committed them to memory and practiced his spells. His control of primal magic was better than any Irving had seen, more powerful than people three times Daylen's age. But he suffered in other areas, he couldn't access anything from the tree of entropy, had only moderately good control of telekinesis from the spirit tree. His glyphs and runes were laughable (something Uldred had once said) and he couldn't access the healing and rejuvenation trees of creation magic.

"Perhaps your magic is simply too powerful for simplistic runes," Irving suggested.

"That's great, now I have a reason for the empire to use me as a weapon, like I'd let them," Daylen said.

He lowered his head, his expression moody. Irving had seen it on many young students, whom hated their situation. The man had even seen it on the face of a boy he used to see in the mirror every night. Irving smiled as he sat down with Daylen.

"How has your study of the force been going?" he asked the boy.

"Study is good, but ability is nonexistent, Uldred said it's because my midichlorian count is low, hilariously, as in he actually laughed at me," Daylen explained.

"Midichlorians, figures the empire would use science to explain the wonder of life, that they would attempt to reduce the great miracle of the force."

"What do you know about it?" Daylen asked.

"Tell me Daylen, what is the force to you?"

"The ability to use telekinesis without mana draining, and to control people and see things before they happen," the boy stated, his expression deadpan.

"All wrong, forget what the scientists are telling you, forget the books and the lectures and even what you see," Irving said.

"What else is there, god?"

"Oh no, I know how you'd react to that," Irving chuckled.

"The way I see the force, is simply another way of explaining the connections," Irving said.

"Connections?" Daylen looked at his teacher, even more confused.

"Tell me Daylen, do you think that every cruel act creates hatred? And vice versa for every act of good in the world?" Irving asked.

"I think things happen, sometimes we become better, sometimes worse," Daylen said.

"Exactly, there is a balance, life has a balance you see. Life, death, new life from that death, peace and violence, then peace from that violence, everything has a balance, a connection if you will. Something connects all of that, and all of us together," Irving explained.

"That's just random chance," Daylen said.

"Which is a force, from a certain point of view. You're going to have to understand Daylen that a lot of the universe is dependent on a person's point of view. From the Sith's point of view, the force is a power they can utilise as they utilise our planet. From one point of view that could be considered arrogance. The force, that force that flows between all things, its everywhere and always present, it's something that cannot be owned by any one group no matter how powerful."

"I'm finding this explanation of the force...better, and not bad for an amateur Irving," Daylen smiled as Irving laughed.

"My expertise is in training mages," the enchanter said.

"From your point of view," his student scoffed.

"Exactly, from my point of view, you've learnt a valuable lesson!"

"Am I done for the day?" Daylen asked.

Irving nodded his head, and Daylen stood up and began running back to the apprentice quarters. He turned the corner, stopping as Niall came into view.

"Daylen," the dark haired man called to him.

"How are you Niall?" he asked.

"Just finished studying the Litany of Adralla, her methods for breaking mind control are brilliant, I've actually studied them in conjunction with Sith texts on force persuade and I believe they're more closely linked than I thought," Niall explained.

"How so?" Daylen asked as they began walking together to the library.

"I believe blood may be the key, most mages use blood to begin the spell of control, with the Sith it is a simple gesture. Sith can control people and biologically people are..."

"Walking sacs of blood," Daylen suggested.

"Not how I would put it but yes, studies have also confirmed that there is an electrical current and blood current to the brain. I think that mages and force users manipulate this flow. It isn't complete domination of the mind, but suggestion."

"Which is why mage or force user, you're always using a spoken command, you're not controlling a person's body, just suggesting something to them!"

"Exactly, your understanding of it is good Daylen, I tried telling a few of the other apprentices earlier and they fell asleep," Niall said.

"You know me Niall, I don't sleep so well anyway," Daylen lowered his head slightly as he spoke.

"Nightmares?"

"Nothing I can't deal with."

"Well you aren't alone, remember that," Niall said.

"Thank you Niall, see you later," Daylen tipped his head, a gesture Niall shared.

They parted, Niall to a few of his fellow mages. Within the books he carried were manuals for Sith fighters. Daylen smirked as he casually walked out of the library. He only had to look at the manuals once to remember the important details. It applied somewhat to physical movements as well. Daylen walked into a session involving the Sith acolytes and some of apprentices. The better trained elders used vicious throws and holds on the students. Within the mass of tumbling bodies, Daylen saw Petra in her combat robes, flipping an acolyte onto her back.

"Good, but your stance is too lazy, do better next time," the instructor said, tapping Petra's rear for emphasis, and to remind her of the control.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead as the class was dismissed.

"You remembered the lesson on Teras Kasi," Daylen said, approaching Petra and bowing his head.

"Actually it was what you said about our staff kata that made me think," Petra corrected, turning to Daylen as she wrapped her thicker robes around herself.

"My staff kata is mediocre, I'm too slow," he said.

"You know the movements, it's just doing them in succession, I remembered what you said about accuracy over barrages, savouring your mana and finding a weak point. How did you come up with such a thing?" Petra asked.

"A variation of what my grandfather would tell me about fighting, he said that people are always eager to waste energy, swinging as many punches as they can. He said, 'Daylen that isn't how to end a fight, all you need is patience, waiting for your chance and striking, making one move count,' he was the best fighter in Kirkwall," Daylen smiled at the memory.

"My dad was a tailor, he knew about patience too," Petra said.

"Really, was he good?" Daylen asked.

"Good enough to impress some nobles, when the mayor of our town was arrested for abusing slaves, the officer who took over assigned him to knitting uniforms. There were certain details and decals their machines couldn't add and my dad was the one to do it, when my magic manifested he tried to get a position making clothes for the circle, but the First Enchanter refused," Petra explained.

"Where are your family now?"

"They now own a modest business in Denerim, it doesn't cater to the nobility, but it's enough to get and give away rations to the downtrodden. And the clothes they make are affordable to, so people can keep warm and eat in the winter."

"They sound very kind," Petra smiled at Daylen's statement.

"The best, what about your mother and father?" Petra asked.

"You know the rumours about me right?"

"Honestly it's hard to tell which is more plausible, you being Revka Amell's bastard from a foreign man or simply found and adopted by the Amells," Petra said.

"I don't which is true either, but I'll always consider her my mother."

"There was also this crazy story that your mother didn't have a lover and that you were formed from midichlorians."

Daylen and Petra paused, a moment passing between the two. He looked up, thinking about it for just a moment. Then he snorted and began to laugh, a sentiment he shared.

"Keep well chosen one," Petra waved her hand as she took off in the opposite direction.

"Remember patience and accuracy," Daylen chuckled, the ridiculous idea lingering in his head.

He turned and made his way to his originally intended destination. When he arrived, he saw Jowan parting with a brown haired girl, in chantry robes.

"Don't tell me you're seeking spiritual advice Jow," Daylen said.

"Lily was just helping me attend to my class schedule," Jowan said.

"Bet that isn't the only thing she's helping you attend to," Daylen chuckled as Jowan made a face.

"Very funny Day, what about you and those holos you hide under your pillow. Does that Twi'lek dancer make you go 'Ooh la, la?'" Jowan smirked as Daylen blushed.

"At some point she's made everyone go Ooh la, la, by the way it's your turn to have it tonight," Daylen grinned and the two laughed.

 **"This is what I have, the greatest thing that life could give me!"**

* * *

Present

 _(OST-I'm my own master now)_

Daylen was snarling, snarling like an animal. At first glance, his blackened body could have been mistaken, for the transformation into an abomination. The armour he conjured was clearer now to the witnesses. It was made from blood, and his will had made it strong. The arms on his back suddenly moved, stopping a sudden strike from the Chagrian. Kaius was ecstatic, a contrast to the horrified looks of the Thedosians present.

Cullen who saw an abomination, Niall, Jowan and Petra, whom saw a corruption of their friend. Loghain however saw a sacrifice, a line that any general would have crossed if they could. He saw someone, throwing themselves into darkness to match their enemy. Alistair, saw a hero, someone willing to do whatever it took to protect others, someone willing to destroy themselves if they had to. Leliana put her hands together, prayed, whispered the words of her faith. She saw in the blood and darkness, a light, the light of a person's will.

"Yes, yes, YES!" Kaius screamed.

He swung his sabres into Daylen's shields, with enough force to knock him back. Daylen quickly barged into Kaius, striking his face with his shields. Quickly recovering, Kaius rapidly swung his sabres, hitting the shields in quick succession. With every hit he knocked the arms back, but Daylen's control was near flawless. He moved them into defensive positions again and again. But with each strike they cracked, and Kaius cackled more and more and drops of blood splattered across the floor.

"Finally, FINALLY!"

With his yell, Kaius summoned force lightning, but Daylen diverted the lightning into his lance and thrust it forward. The lightning on the lance sharpened it, breaking through Kaius's sabres, and striking his chest. Then the lightning rushed forth, throwing Kaius backwards. Blood poured from his wound, but still he laughed, bringing bits of rock and dirt up from the ground. He threw them at Daylen, who turned his lance into a massive sword, one that resembled what the giant he summoned against the army wielded. With every swing he cut apart the projectiles Kaius launched at him.

"Finally I see the rage I always wanted of you Daylen," Kaius said.

He rushed forward, hitting Daylen's sword with such force that he was thrown back. Kaius twirled in the air as he held Daylen with the force, throwing him into the ground. Daylen quickly brought his sword up, tearing into Kaius's shoulder. Viciously, Kaius kicked him, shattering the plate on Daylen's cheek. Underneath the armour, it was as if Daylen had become darkness. Daylen threw his head into Kaius's, slicing him across the nose. But Kaius swung his sabre into the helmet, smearing the blood across the floor and revealing the phantasm like creature Daylen had become.

"The rage I saw in your eyes, all those years ago, WHEN I KILLED YOUR GRANDFATHER!"

 _(OST-It has to be this way)_

The memory flashed before Daylen's eyes, but still he didn't waver, relentlessly batting aside Kaius's sabres again and again. He swung his fist towards Kaius, passing it like a ghost through his raised sabre. But when it made contact with Kaius's cheek, it was very much solid, and hard enough to throw Kaius back. Daylen rushed forward, throwing his arm, passing it through Kaius's flesh again and again. Each punch repaid the agony Kaius had put Daylen through. Kaius spat a blob of blood onto the floor, but grinned as he locked his sabres with Daylen's last shield. The shield shattered, and Daylen brought up his sword, changing into a smaller, and sharper curved blade. Holding it with one hand, and summoning fire with the other, Daylen engulfed both himself and Kaius in the flames. Kaius however poured all his concentration, using what more skilled masters called a force storm.

The flames were shot upwards, and those watching the fight were struck by the awe and terror of it. Such power from both fighters, and both were on their last legs. Daylen's knees were shaking, and Kaius, parts of his flesh sizzling, took a deep breath and regained his own bearings. The armour around Daylen dripped as blood onto the charred ground. Daylen's form revealed itself, it was so much like what Surana had turned into in her last moments. He seemed to have regained his cut off hand, but it was shaking along with his other limbs.

 _(OST-You say run)_

Energy swirled in his hands as he again created a sharp curved blade, and held it with both hands. A maw appeared on his face as his eyes flared like fire, and he roared.

"CAREFUL DAYLEN!" Kaius yelled, again clashing weapons with Daylen. "CAREFUL OR YOU'LL LOSE YOURSELF TO ANGER AND DARKNESS!"

"NO I WON'T!" Daylen yelled back defiantly.

"Daylen," Jowan whispered.

"He's retaining his sense of individuality, even when drawing from the power of a demon," Cullen looked at Daylen in shock.

"Daylen Amell, there's a strength in him I haven't seen since Maric," Loghain said.

Jowan took a step forward. He was the first to take a step forward. Daylen and Kaius's sword grinded together, sparks raining down on the ground. Kaius pulled his blades back and unleashed a flurry of strikes. Daylen countered with waves of parries, focusing on Kaius's light sabre ports, his horns and his arms. His face, once like a beasts, calmed, the maw fused back into the shadow and the red eyes narrowed.

"I will fall, but I won't stay in the darkness," Daylen said.

"Because I have something, something you don't have!"

He sliced through the ports, breaking both sabres. Kaius stepped back in momentary shock.

"Something you gave up on, a long time ago!"

Daylen stopped for a moment, his arms dropping down. Weakness took hold for but a few seconds. Enough for Kaius to divert his next slash with the force. The blade swept over Kaius's hands, cutting them instead of taking them off.

"Something!" Daylen snarled.

He swung his blade at Kaius, who ducked. As Daylen's sword cut cleanly through his horns, Kaius thrust his hand into Daylen's chest, striking his heart with the force. Daylen fell back, his sword fading, but there was something at his back, something that pushed him forward.

"Something," he grabbed one of Kaius's horns before they fell.

With all the strength he had left, he yelled as he plunged the horn through Kaius's chest, pushing it so deep that it broke inside the man's body.

"SOMETHING THAT'LL PULL ME BACK!"

 _(End OST)_

The hand that held what was of Kaius's horn faded, and the horn dropped to the ground. Daylen's body returned to normal, returned to its fatigued breaths, burnt and cut flesh, and ripped clothes. Kaius was still standing, his knees however weren't even shaking. Daylen however was only able to stand because of the people behind him, all of those whom called him friend or allied with him. Kaius looked at Daylen, at the friends literally keeping him standing, and huffed in disgust.

"They are who I have, the people who will pull me up if I fall, even kill me if I can't," Daylen chuckled slightly, seeing that Cullen had a cautious hand on his sword.

"I had friends once, a family," Kaius said, his voice full of regret for a small moment. "It was only when they were dead that my true strength arose, when there was no one left to keep me from the darkness."

"Maybe that's why you lost," Daylen retorted.

Kaius laughed, pulling the horn out of his chest with the force, letting the blood leak from the wound. Daylen looked at him, and widened his eyes, leaning on Jowan for support.

"You held back, at the last moment you held back didn't you?" he asked.

"No boy, what you saw was everything I had, it was you who wavered, from the very moment this fight began you wavered. It wasn't until they arrived that you fought me in earnest," Kaius explained.

"No, I really did struggle to fight you," Daylen said.

Kaius shook his head as he sat down, resting his arms on his knees.

"You're right, I have nothing left, but be careful Amell. What you call your strength is also your greatest weakness, in trying to save everyone, you'll never be able to save anyone. And just as you had done for me, holding back will present your enemies with opportunities," he waved his head to the stump on Daylen's arm.

"Kaius, I felt it from you, you hate the empire as much as we do don't you. Don't you want to take your revenge against them?" the mage asked.

"I already have," Kaius grinned.

"You let this rebellion happen didn't you?" Loghain asked.

"Smart man!"

"That's insane," Petra said.

"No, it's Sith," Alistair muttered.

The Chagrian laughed, hanging his head low, dark rings formed in his blood shot eyes. Even his red skin began to pale. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a triangular shaped device, it had gold highlights, but the majority of it was glowing red.

"This is Sith, a holocron that contains the knowledge of my former master, you will need his guidance if you struggled with me, I only beat him because of his age," Kaius explained.

"The other Sith Lords, are they stronger than you?" Daylen asked.

Kaius shuffled, turning to look at the setting, blood red sun. He pulled his head back, his voice becoming horse as he struggled to even speak.

"They all, have their strengths," he began weakly, continuing to look at the sun. "There are some Daylen Amell, whose power greatly, and hilariously surpasses mine...some that are even...godlike."

Daylen looked at Kaius, pitying him at first. But then he felt envious, that in a way, Kaius had gotten what he wanted.

"Keep training, and keep fighting, and for force sake, don't hold anything back, show your enemies not a single shred of mercy or you'll lose more than your hand," Kaius snarled.

He hung his head, muttering his final words.

"May...the force...be...with you!"

Kaius's head dropped down with his final breath. Daylen waited, expecting the body to fade as Surana's had. But it didn't, no force merged with him.

'No, there is nothing else for him, everything he is, is gone,' Daylen thought.

Overcome by his fatigue, he closed his eyes and fell back into the arms of his friends.

Next Episode 17: The empire strikes back

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, I originally thought of keeping the story going on longer. But Kaius was the main antagonist of this story, and with his passing will come the end of an arc. But the story isn't over yet, the empire reacts, threatening the continued existence of the rebellion.


	17. Episode 17

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

Some difficult decisions for me this chapter, but I feel they will drive the rebellion forward.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 17: The Empire strikes back

The battle for Ferelden was over, the battle for Thedas, and the rest of their planet was just beginning. No one had any illusions, after witnessing the destruction of the Orlesian elven homeland. The empire had the capability of completely wiping a region off of the map. With that in mind, the defacto leader of the resistance, and new acting governor of Ferelden, gave the order before her father returned.

"We're leaving Ferelden, pack provisions and weapons, everything you will need to survive in the long term," Anora said.

With the king in chains, and many of the Arls who remained with the empire prisoners as well, Loghain, Anora, Teagan and Eamon were the most trusted leaders left in Ferelden. When Loghain returned he didn't question his daughter's logic, just as Eamon and Teagan didn't. But there was debate, those hesitant to leave their homes.

"Mother, we have to go," Marian said to Leandra.

Already Marian was beginning to pack things for her mother, darting across their house quicker than she did in her childhood.

"This is our home Marian, we've driven the empire out," Leandra said.

"But we won't be able to keep it from the empire, either they'll take it back or bomb it to ash, either way keeping Ferelden as a base was not an option," Marian explained.

She threw a basket onto the table and began putting loaves of bread and rolls of ham into it. Leandra walked over to her daughter, grabbed the basket and tipped the contents onto the floor.

"For Maker's sake mother ENOUGH!" Marian yelled, a tear forming in her eye.

"You've always wanted to leave home," Leandra said.

"I never wanted home to belong to tyrants," Marian retorted.

She picked up a nearby chair and sat on it, wiping her eyes.

"I knew this wasn't going to be simple, that I would have to go underground, but never once mother did I think we would have to abandon home altogether. You saw what the empire is capable of, that destructive power, it terrifies me, but it makes me want to fight them even more," she explained.

Leandra touched her daughter's shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

"Then I will fight with you," she said.

Marian looked up at her mother in shock, particularly because of the determination in her eyes. They looked more alike than they had before.

"Your father and I made a home here, we can't keep the empire from taking it, but we can avenge ourselves," Leandra explained.

Marian nodded her head in complete understanding. Both understood one another better that day, and they were not the only ones. For in war, even rivalries are diminished, even the deepest of hatreds is put aside for the greater good. Before the battle a promise was made by Zathrian, after the fight, after witnessing the empire's evil and destructive cruelty, the ages old elf stood before the forest spirit.

"I had promised to set them free," Zathrian said.

Behind him stood Lanaya and his clan, many of whom would be buried or cremated alongside the werewolves. Behind Witherfang stood Swiftrunner and the other surviving members of the pack.

"You had, for ages they have waited," Witherfang nodded her head, smiling beautifully in her odd and otherworldly way.

"Wait," snarled Swiftrunner.

The leader of the pack stepped forward, standing over Zathrian. His face was not that of a beast, but a calm and noble creature, at peace with its nature.

"This war has just begun, many of us will never be able to fight the empire as humans," he said.

Zathrian and the members of his clan heard this, and were shocked by it. He implied something they thought he would never request. Swiftrunner spoke for the pack, and none snarled in protest, or stepped up to challenge him. Witherfang looked at her pack, the men and women whose hearts she had calmed and smiled. As if she was a mother proud of her children.

"The empire will retaliate for what has happened here, the human generals believes they will use their new weapon to wipe out the region, including the forest you are bound to," Zathrian explained to Witherfang.

But she already knew the consequences, just as the werewolves knew.

"I swear to you, when the empire has left our planet, when we are free of their rule, I will free each of you from this curse, and pay for my sins with my life," Zathrian vowed, offering Witherfang his hand.

Witherfang gripped Zathrian's smaller hand, and with a shake the pact was made. The most unlikeliest of alliances was strengthened.

Bigotry and racism, even tradition seemed petty when faced with the likelihood of death. When faced with the true evil of the empire, unlikely friendships were formed. Examples were made, Oghren the drunken dwarf, Sten the Qunari vanguard, Zevran the elf assassin, together they worked and unwittingly became examples for others to follow. Humans and elves helped one another, nobles walked alongside commoners. Cullen marched in his templar armour, alongside his brothers of the order and the mages they protected. Tabris and her people gave the Dalish advice and help. Even Loghain coordinated scouts with Leliana's help.

"We need to distribute fairly," Leliana said.

"I agree, but we need to be practical about it, the children won't need to eat as much as the adults and we'll need to focus on travelling," Loghain explained.

"So perhaps distribute a set number of rations daily, and only once the travellers have provided sufficient proof that their own food stocks are depleted. Which leaves the issue of water, we should travel close to lakes."

Loghain produced a map from his armour, rolling it out on the table he and Leliana were using.

"Most of the lakes outside of Ferelden have imperial camps there, unless we're willing to fight for water, we'll need to gather as much as we can now, which will kill time, which may very well kill us," he explained.

"Lord Loghain," a mage called out to the man.

He rushed over, flanked by two templar recruits.

"What's your name boy?" Loghain asked.

"Florian Phineas Hora...just Finn my lord," the teen said, upon seeing Loghain crunch his face up at the ridiculous length of names.

Leliana hid her smug grin beneath her hood.

"I know how to get water without wasting time or risking discovery by the empire," he said.

He charged fire in one hand, and ice in the other. Then he put his hand together, raising them up and nodding to Loghain. He noticed water slowly drip from Finn's hands. Loghain put his hands together, putting them underneath the fused fire and ice. Like a tap the water fell into Loghain's hands, warm, but clean and capable of keeping them hydrated.

"How long will it take other mages to learn how to do this?" Leliana asked.

"Not very long at all, it's so easy that I'm surprised it hasn't been done before," Finn said.

"Very well Florian Phineas, you'll be in charge of water production," Loghain clapped the boy's shoulder, causing Finn to tense in awe.

The hero of River Dane clapped his shoulder. He nodded his head and walked off, the templar recruits patting his back as he went. But there was still the dread in the atmosphere, the knowledge that some would never see their home again, or those staying behind. Tearful goodbyes were said to elders who couldn't make the journey, and wishful prayers were exchanged. But hope alone would not save them.

* * *

There was one thing Moff Uclas wanted more than anything in the world, and that was power. He did not have the power of the force, nor did he had any great expertise in warfare. But he had an idea, a grand idea that would perhaps take a few years to evolve. A symbol of imperial power that went beyond the Sith and their lightsabres. He believed in the idea of a station, massive in scale, the size of a moon, capable of withstanding an attack from multiple fleets. An unbeatable war machine with the power to destroy a planet, a star of death that the galaxy would forever fear. One it had become more than an idea, the republic, the rebellion, and the Jedi would fall, and the empire would rise as the dominant power in the galaxy.

'And the emperor will reward me for bringing the galaxy into his hands,' Uclas smiled as he looked at his creation.

The super laser had destroyed the Dales, and it was only a matter of time before it would be ready to fire again. One of Uclas's aids walked up to him, saluting before standing at attention.

"Sir, the council wishes to speak with you," he said.

Uclas nodded his head and walked to his office. Pushing a button at his desk, multiple platforms rose up from the ground. Then the blue, holographic forms of multiple men in uniform and robes came up. An admiral, a general, Lady Lumiya, Darth Asher and the triumvirate of Tenebrous, Plagueis and Zannah.

"Where is Darth Kaius?" Uclas asked.

"Haven't you kept up with intelligence reports, the battle of Ferelden is over," Darth Asher said.

"Kaius has fallen, the rebels were victorious," Zannah said.

"Not for long, soon the weapon will be ready to fire," Uclas said.

"Once again you're putting too much faith in that weapon of yours," Asher shook his head as Uclas glared.

"The people of Ferelden have defied the orders of their king, and worse, defied the will of the emperor, this cannot stand and I will not let it stand without consequence. We must repay the rebels tenfold and make examples of them all," Uclas explained.

"I can have the satellite in Ferelden's orbit within the next four hours!"

"The entire nation?" the general asked.

"General Veers, this is an attack carried out by the nation, we must punish them," Lumiya said.

"But there may still be loyalists in that area," Veers said.

"Plus our own troops, it won't stand well with recruits to know they are expendable...which they are, but they expect a benefits package, wanton sacrifice not being on it," Asher explained.

"We must at least strike at the rebels before they can coordinate," Zannah said.

She raised her hooded head, looking between Veers, the Admiral and Lumiya.

"Admiral Satarn, transport Veers's forces to Par Vollen, prepare for a full scale surface attack," she said.

"Yes Lady Zannah."

"Lumiya, whatever help Ferelden had must have come from Kirkwall, find those who aided the rebels and destroy them," she turned looked towards Asher, who grinned, not requiring an order.

Then she looked towards Uclas, and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

"You have my permission to use the weapon Moff, do this and I will tell the emperor of your service, and the benefit of continued funding of your project," she explained.

"Thank you Lady Zannah, I will not fail you," Uclas said.

"See to it that you do not!"

One by one the dark lords and military leaders ceased communication. Uclas smiled as he marched towards the bridge of his ship, his hands behind his back with every step, each step proud and illustrating his ambitions. He walked down the command platform, the soldiers and officers beneath him saluting as he walked to the window. Uclas looked at his beautiful creation, and at the mass of land in the distance, the land that would soon formerly be known as Ferelden.

"Captain, put us on a course for Ferelden's orbit, maintain link with the Death-light, have the maintenance crews begin replacing the arrays and reloading the lyrium containers," Uclas explained.

"Yes Moff," the captain relayed the commands across the Star Destroyer.

Black clad pilots began running to their fighters, the new model Tie. When inside the hanger, the six fighters let out the distinctive and horrifying sound the fighters let out in flight. But then they went into space, and there was nothing. The fighters used customised mechanical arms, and careful strafing movements, to replace the overheated parts of the satellite. One fighter pulled away the containers where the lyrium was once put. Now, drained of their power, they were simple stones. As they were dumped into the atmosphere, another fighter slid new containers into the satellite.

"Incredible, I feel sorry for the Ferelden savages," one of the pilots said.

"I feel sorrier for our allies still stuck on that back water place," said another.

Another one of the pilots huffed as he dumped the broken parts. He looked out and space and noticed a brief light coming from the debris field. The pilot turned the dial on his radio, contacting the bridge.

"This is T-model 101, requesting a scan of the debris belt, relaying estimated coordinates of anomaly now," he said.

On the ship, a scanning technician put his hand away from his ear and looked up at the captain.

"Captain, one of our pilot's requested a scan of the nearby debris field, but we aren't in range to launch a probe," he explained.

"Helm, adjust course!"

"Belay that order captain," Uclas said, walking over to the captain and aiming a glare at the helmswoman. "Stay the course, we will have no delays!"

Hesitantly, the captain nodded his head. Uclas scoffed at the man's uncertainty. He sincerely doubted the rebels could muster anything to stop them.

* * *

General Veers was a soldier, and he had a soldier's perspective. He led men into battle, and he stood with those men, all of whom believed in the empire as much as he did. Though there were bigots amongst his men, Veers didn't fault his units effectiveness. Nor did he intend to underestimate the Qunari, or allow himself to be lost in the promise or rich reward. He would be the first person to strike at Par Vollen, what was widely accepted as the current homeland of the Qunari. They had the advantage in numbers and technology, but the Qunari would not make it an easy victory.

Heavy cruisers carried the All Terrain Armoured Transports, also known as AT-AT's. The massive, four legged armoured fortresses slammed onto the sands of the beaches, and began to march towards the city of Qunandar. Through the water rolled Juggernauts, ten wheeled heavy assault vehicles, that released from their hatches TX-130T fighter tanks, and contingents of Shore troopers. In the air IDTs (imperial drop ship transport) moved ahead towards the city.

First came the bombardment, Tie Fighters strafed the city, engines roaring and filling it with that sound. Not everyone in Qunandar was a soldier. There were bakers, labourers, priests, musicians and traders, people who had no training in fighting, or coping with fear tactics. But the Qunari soldiers reacted swiftly. Great horns acted as the signal for sheltering procedures and defence protocols to begin. But when the barrage came down, pieces of buildings came down, entire regions of the city were set aflame.

But the Qunari were no slouches, they had ballista's with black powder put into their projectiles. Then there was their creations, cannons, they lined the walls of the city, preparing for the inevitable arrival of the imperial ground troops. The Qunari had also hardwired blaster cannons and heavy repeaters onto high points of the city, and their watch towers. As well as their spears, Ashad's carried rocket launchers. They fired at the fighters, easily missing, but the IDTs were bigger and slower targets. Blasts came down from the ships, throwing soldiers across the street like ragdolls.

"All right squad, let's show the off worlders how the locals fight," Imperial soldier, Cremisius Aclassi put on his black and red helmet, and jumped out of his drop ship as it however above the streets.

He loaded his rifle and moved with his fellow Tevinter recruits. They had not been welcomed into the ranks of the Storm troopers, but they were still important parts of the military.

"Aclassi, we need that gun emplacement taken out," their commander said over the radio.

'There's no change,' Cremisius thought, sometimes in an army there were the commanders that didn't fight alongside the soldiers, yet got all the credit.

He moved cover as black powder bombs were launched from slingshots at his squad. One man had his helmet and skull broken apart by a head shot. When there was a pause to reload, the Tevinters struck back. Cremisius released several bursts from his blaster, getting a direct hit on a Qunari as he lit the fuse on a bomb. The bomb blew the rest of the fighters away and dazed the remaining ones. Cremisius and his squad fired one shot after another, gunning down multiple defiant Qunari on their way to the gun placement.

"CREMISIUS BEHIND..." his squad member never got to finish his sentence.

The Qunari had charged, fittingly like a bull, out of nowhere. He was surprisingly fast for his size. He was holding the leg of a storm trooper with one hand, and a maul with another, swinging the screaming trooper like a morning star. Two troopers got their heads smashed, and when the others fired back, the Qunari used the trooper he held as a shield before throwing him into them.

'Maker he's big,' Cremisius thought.

His horns stretched out of the sides of his head, a unique pattern Cremisius hadn't seen from other Qunari. The bull smashed a man's head in with his maul, ripping his belt off and priming the grenades on them.

"Shit," Cremisius cursed, diving to the side.

The resulting explosion consumed two men and threw Cremisius into a wall.

His ears rang, it was all he could hear. When he recovered, he heard a barrage of missiles come down from the sky. Shrapnel was released, cutting apart several Qunari who braved a counter attack. Cremisius poked out of cover, seeing the Bull, still stubbornly fighting, even with one of his eyes missing. An explosion threw the bull back, and Cremisius assumed that would be the last he heard from him. Moving alongside reinforcing Storm troopers, Cremisius rejoined his unit in taking the gun placement.

General Veers looked through the observation scope of his AT-AT. He could see Juggernauts crashing through the city walls, allowing the troopers to climb into the city. The Qunari were relentless in their defence. Cannonballs slammed into tanks, rockets threw men off of the ground, and though the Qunari were fighting bravely, the reality was that their city was already lost. Most of the city walls had been brought down, by the beams from the fighter tank turrets. Veers read the distance metre, they were now within firing range.

"Target the areas of the city our troops aren't in, and open fire," Veers commanded.

The AT-ATs moved their heads, and fired the nozzle on their faces, hitting the city with high powered blasts. For so long the Qunari had been tolerated, the empire merely seeing them as an annoyance. But Veers knew the city would fall, the Qunari dreadnoughts could do nothing against and enemy that could go around them, or underneath them. Within only a couple of hours, the city was burning. Qunandar, the heart of Qunari culture, was crumbling.

As buildings in the city came down, and the fires spread, Cremisius ran back to the dropship, a lone Tevinter amongst imperial Storm troopers. He stopped, looking down at the bodies of the Qunari, the soldiers and the civilians. They were with the members of his own unit, all of them dead. His unit, his comrades, his brothers in arms whom accepted him despite his-differences from them. Cremisius looked up at the flaming buildings, this place was once beautiful.

'And we've destroyed it, in no time at all, we've made the Qunari endangered,' he found himself regretting that more than he thought he would.

He looked through the flames, raising his rifle as he saw the Bull. Still alive, his arm broken, eye gone. Yet still he stood, and Cremisius blinked. He saw something in the Qunari man he did not expect. Grief and heartbreak, he had failed in his duty and it hurt. Cremisius lowered his rifle and ran back to the drop ship, assuming again it was the last he saw of the Bull.

The flames rising from Qunandar could be seen from the Qunari fleet. On the largest of them, the Arishok watched and roared in anger, this would not be the end of them, that he swore.

* * *

In Kirkwall, retribution came not with heavy vehicles, but troops. Meredith walked through the streets, watching her fellow Knight-troopers work with riot troopers to force people out of their homes.

"Move towards the Chantry, Grand Cleric Petrice has an announcement to make," one of the troopers spoke through a loud speaker.

Meredith walked behind her troopers, whom all had blasters at the back of a crown of people. From Dark town, low town and High town, even what was left of the alienage was dragged towards the chantry. A stage had been set up outside of the building. Petrice stood proudly with a speaker in her hand, guarded by red guards. Meredith turned away from the sight, focusing on the task of gathering up those who had not heeded the call. Indignant nobles complained, and were quickly reminded, violently of their place by the imperials.

'This is what has become of my home, of our order,' Meredith thought.

She walked towards the Amell estate, once one of the proudest families in the city. Now they too would be executed, as all rebels should. Meredith however felt sympathy for the Amells, as it was Lumiya walking into their house.

Moments before, when the imperials were pounding against the barricaded door, Gamlen had his staff go through the escape tunnel to dark town. Charade had packed a small bag of provisions, smiling at her father as they walked to the hatch.

"We've started it, the rebellion," she said.

"We started the retribution, it's up to the rest of Thedas to decide what it wants to do," Gamlen said.

"I'll fight," Charade said.

"Charade, I am so proud of the woman you have grown into," a smile crossed Gamlen's face, but the smile on Charade's faded.

She shook her head as Gamlen kissed her forehead.

"No, you're not staying, you're coming with us," she grabbed her father's shoulders and tried to pull him into the cavern.

He held the sides of the door with one hand, and touched Charade's cheek with the other.

"I'm glad you didn't inherit the family resemblance, you're so different from me, and I'm proud of that," he explained.

"No father, I am like you, I am like you," she whispered as Gamlen touched the top of her head.

"Of all the treasures in the world, you were the one worth finding, the only one worth finding. Go, go, join your cousins, and fight," he said, pushing Charade into the tunnel and closing the door.

Hesitantly, and with tears in her eyes, Charade began to run, run as fast as she could. She stumbled at times, grief overtaking her, causing her pain. The image of the imperials breaking into the estate haunted her. Every step she took, she felt the blows they inflicted on her father. When she got to where the servants waited, she put on a brave face for them. The same face her father had as he was dragged, bruised and bleeding to the Chantry.

"All are not created equal," Petrice began, standing in front of the people of Kirkwall, the prisoners behind her.

Gamlen, Elthina and her entourage, and a few merchants that helped the rebels smuggle goods.

"The force is selective, the emperor is selective. Only certain people can be born with strength of body, only certain people can be born with cunning, only the select few, born and favoured with the force, can rule. And none are more gifted, none are more divine than our emperor, blessed and eternal be his reign," Petrice raised her hand and cheered.

Everyone in the city matched her, whether Petrice knew it or not, they did it because they knew they had to. But very few, if any in the crowd at all, believed her.

"These disgusting creatures, have attempted to bring chaos, to defy the grand order of the galaxy. They are your enemies, the enemies of the empire, of our flawless and divine emperor. His will is our will, and his will is for them to die," Petrice moved aside as the red guards stepped pushed the prisoners forward.

Elthina smiled at Meredith and Gamlen kept his head held high.

"Maferath went to his wife and said: "In the hills lies a silver pool, where they say the voice of heaven can be heard most clearly. Let us go together and hear the Maker's Will." Andraste went with Maferath and the Aegis to the silver pond. As she knelt in prayer, the servants of the Archon surrounded them, Spears raised. Andraste drew her sword And pierced one man through the heart, but Maferath, With a blow from his axe, struck the blade from her hands. And it fell to the ground, and where it landed, tears welled from the land.

"The Aegis faltered; his hand could not draw against his own lord, but neither could it be stayed as his Prophet was betrayed. Unarmed, he stood between Andraste and the Tevinters. A spear pierced his chest twice, and he fell.

With neither blade nor shield, Andraste gave herself up to her enemies. And Maferath bound his wife's hands and delivered her to the Archon to be put to death."

The chant, even now Elthina quoted from the true chant of light. She knelt and put her hands together. Gamlen however raised his bound fists high.

"THE DREAM LIVES ON! THE REBELLION LIVES ON! AND WITH IT OUR FREEDOM!"

Elthina looked up at Gamlen in shock, surprised by the Amell's courage. She smiled as she stood up.

"IN OUR HEARTS! IN YOUR HEARTS! BURNS AN UNQUENCHABLE FLAME!"

They raised their fists together, and their fellow prisoners followed.

"FOR THEDAS!"

"FOR THE REBELLION!"

"FOR THE MAKER!"

"FOR THE DREAM!"

Suddenly, a red light whip was ignited, and surged through the necks of the rebels. Some in the crowd screamed as the heads fell, some rolling off of the stage. Meredith grit her teeth together in anger, glaring at Petrice as she lifted up Elthina's head.

"LOOK! LOOK UPON THE PUNISHMENT, FOR ALL THOSE WHO DEFY THE DIVINE WILL OF THE EMPEROR!"

The Knight-Commander did her best to hide her scowl as Petrice threw Elthina's head into her hands.

"Put them all on display, have the rest of Elthina's body ripped apart, send a piece to every corner of the planet. Not just Thedas, but our entire world will know of the price of defiance," Petrice explained.

She looked up proudly, as if expecting some reward to be granted to her from the heavens. Meredith felt the anger rising inside her, stronger than her hatred for mages, stronger than her faith in the Templar order. Her hatred for Petrice and her empire puppet masters, was stronger than any feeling she felt she could have had. And Petrice, her plan to send a piece of Elthina, to every corner of the planet, would not have the effect she intended.

* * *

Uclas counted down the minutes, his success was inevitable. The satellite was directly over Ferelden now. A blast right at its heart would destroy the accursed country, and end the rebellion. He kept his arms behind his back, smiling as the satellite finally achieved orbit.

"Charge the weapon to full power, you may fire when ready captain," Uclas said.

Hesitantly, the captain nodded. The satellite crews began relaying the signal, through the wireless network. Vents on the satellite opened, and inside, the chambers of lyrium began to spin. Multiple electrical charges were activated, surging through the lyrium. No one could hear it, but within the chambers, it was if people were being tortured, screams echoed from the lyrium. At the bottom of the satellite, the arrays began to glow as the 'wings' of the satellite opened, their panels shining.

The image of the lasers joining together, releasing a gigantic blast downwards, were reflected in Uclas's eyes. To him it looked beautiful, but it was far from it. When it struck the Southron hills, a great dome of energy was released, growing and consuming everything it its path. In the Brecillian Forest, Sylvans ran with the woodland creatures for a useless safety. Only Witherfang, the lady of the forest remained still. She closed her eyes and raised her hand as the blast consumed her, obliterating her as easily as it had the great trees. Chasind tribes in the Korcari wilds fell to their knees, whilst others held onto one another, or ran for shelter they wouldn't find. Further the blast spread, crumbling the ground, obliterating trees and houses, and castles. The deserted city of Denerim was consumed by the blast, its great fortress nothing to the imperial weapon. Lake Calenhad was reduced to steam, whilst the circle tower and docks were vaporised. The Bannorn, the Coastlands, the Hinterlands, everything west of the Frostback Mountains, was completely and utterly destroyed.

Orzammar was shaking, king Bhelen looked up at the ceiling of his city in horror. The mountain was crumbling, coming down on the pride of the Dwarven people. Nobility and casteless alike were slowly and agonisingly being buried. Though Orzammar would not fall, Bhelen would never forget what had occurred, and never forgive. From Kirkwall, the still grieving Charade looked at the mushroom cloud rising from Ferelden, and prayed for her family. In Orlais, Gaspard looked towards the country of his former rivals and cursed the empire. A great wave swept across the ocean, boats that had sailed from Ferelden struggled to stay afloat. On the Siren's Call, Isabela yelled out orders to her crew men, and the people they had taken in. Marian, Bethany, Fenris, Anders, Aveline, Varric and Sebastian worked hard to keep the Call from being overcome by the wave.

"Target sir, is, completely eliminated," the navigator on the Star Destroyer was overcome.

Silence hung over the crew, until a few began to clap with Uclas. The captain remained silent, looking at the cloud that was Ferelden in shock.

"Captain, get us connected to a Comm. Buoy and contact imperial high command, I want to be speaking with the emperor directly," Uclas explained.

"Sir, Lady Zannah said she would tell the emperor of the weapon's success," the captain said.

"HA! And let her take credit it for it, this is a matter of politics now," Uclas laughed, continuing to look down at the destroyed target with glee.

It went back to business as usual, at least for a few seconds. Then the radar operator looked at his display, and widened his eyes.

"CAPTAIN!" he yelled.

Next Episode 18: Rebel gambit

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, in whatever way they could, next time, the rebels strike back!


	18. Episode 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars.

One of the hardest chapters for me to write, but strangely one of my favourites too. Also saw the Last Jedi, enjoyed it, nit picked a few things, but overall loved it.

Anyway enjoyed the chapter

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 18: Rebel gambit

There was a plan, a plan first formed by Daylen. Since he first thought of rebellion a few years ago, he studied manuals on star fighters. Specifically, the F-T6 Rycer, the Empire's chief strike fighter craft. He learnt the controls, studied the shape and structure of the cockpit and committed the instructions to his photographic memory. Jowan studied it too, alongside Petra and Niall and others in the tower whom took Daylen's plan to heart. From there, the plan grew, expanded and became what it would be, on the day a backwater, underdeveloped world, showed the empire that it could fight back.

"This was one of the priority targets, empire nearly blew this place to hell, but thankfully I've learnt how to slice systems, makes good for assassination," Zevran explained to the mages and templars.

They were walking through the intricate metallic walkways and platforms of the imperial factory. Jowan, Niall and Petra looked up at the Rycer and smiled.

"Call came in from the command tent, they're preparing to move out," one of the templars with the radio said.

"Can you call in a request to the others, anyone who has experience piloting?" Jowan asked.

"Piloting?" Zevran looked at the mages in confusion.

"I know it seems odd, but this is something we need to do," Niall said.

"Does Daylen know about this?" Zevran asked.

"He made a pretty desperate plan, but its dependent on a machine none of us have experience operating, dumb luck and talent will only get us so far, so we need a call out to anyone who can help us," Petra explained.

"Okay, I'll make the call!"

As Anora prepared the caravan, Loghain heard of the mages plan and added his advice to it.

"Our homeland is lost, the majority of citizens and the Banns know this, anyone who stays will be killed by the empire's new weapon. But that may be the point, we draw them into firing on Ferelden, leaving them vulnerable, pleased with themselves," he spoke with many people around his map.

"For our plan to work, we'll need more than pilots," Greagoir said.

"Those flight suits have Oxygen tanks right, we could organise strike teams," Cullen added.

"You're right, I'll take a handful with me, Ser Bryant has offered his men as well," the Knight-Commander said.

"Then I'll have my squad prepped."

"No Cullen," Greagoir shook his head, turning to the young man. "I'm going, you're not going to come with us, you will remain here as commander of the Ferelden templars left."

Cullen tilted his head, shaking it for a moment.

"Knight-Commander are you..." he stopped, unable to finish.

He nodded his head in complete understanding and Greagoir smiled. It was all the making of the kind of military leader the rebellion would no doubt need.

"You're all pilots?" Leliana asked the people who gathered around her.

Kallian nodded her head, a defiant frown across her face. Across from her, a black haired man stood in leather armour. There was also a red haired woman, a Rivaini man in Chantry robes and a Twi'lek man. An overweight man also walked into the fray, causing many of the people around them to laugh.

"Porkings, HA! You'll weigh the fighter down!"

"Here's how it'll go, 'got a problem here!'"

"Porkings, pull up!"

"Nah I'm allriGHAAGH!"

"ENOUGH!" Leliana yelled out.

They stopped laughing and Leliana looked at Porkings, reading his face for any sign of fear. There was fear, but the good kind of fear. And she couldn't choose her allies at the moment.

"Take extra Oxygen tanks, and be careful with the damn explosives," Anora said.

"My high explosives may not be safe, but you'll bet your ass they'll make a big bang, but for what we're planning, you can have my safe explosives," Dworkin explained.

They handed blasters and armour. Each person who volunteered for the mission was outfitted with a flight suit, those who didn't had storm trooper helmets hooked up to Oxygen tanks. Knight-trooper already had those capabilities, but alongside their jump packs, Greagoir and the templar volunteers strapped swords to their backs.

"What's your name?" the black haired pilot asked the Twi'lek.

"Ash, yours?"

"Daveth, what's your experience?"

"Piloting for transporting VIP's, tried fighter academy but the empire didn't take kindly to a Twi'lek who was a better pilot than the human cadets, what about you?"

"Joy riding, was lined up to be executed," Daveth smirked and Ash chuckled. "What about you pretty ones, where did you learn to pilot?"

"Same situation as Ash, I tried applying to the academy, got as far as flight sims, did well, embarrassed a few people and then got laughed out of there," Kallian explained.

"I was practicing with flight sims, got an offer but my mom got sick, missed out on actual recruitment," the red haired girl, Bella said.

"We're going up there, if we screw up, then that weapon will be ready to destroy any part of our planet, they'll probably destroy the planet itself if we do screw up," Kallian explained, looking at each of the pilot volunteers.

"Pray for our success father," Daveth said to the Chantry priest.

"Devons, and I'm done with prayers, I took VIPS from one end of Thedas to the other, I'm going to fight for the planet now," the priest said.

Cousland had been prepping his weapons when he saw a red haired man saying goodbye to his family.

"I will return Helena," he said before kissing his wife.

'Jory you idiot,' Cousland thought, but said nothing.

"We're ready my lord," his lieutenant said.

"I'm not a lord Gilmore, just a man, whose going to fight with everything he has," Cousland said, before putting his blaster into its holster.

Together they prepared, and as the rebellion fled Ferelden, they flew.

Up and up they flew, beyond the clouds, towards the stars. It was a sight that astonished them. Each man and woman was left speechless, having never seen the darkness of space before. But what truly led some to tears was the sight of their own world. So large to them, in reality smaller than some of the distant marbles in space, but no less important. It was their home, their beautiful, blue, green and brown home. A place they were going to die for.

They flew to the debris field as carefully as they could. Slowly they opened their cockpits, allowing their passengers to disembark. Greagoir, Byran and Cousland got their men onto some of the meteorites. Carefully they latched the Rycer's tow cables onto them, gripped their pick axes tightly and latched onto the surfaces of the rocks. None would get second chances, and if they failed it meant death in the vacuum. They heard nothing in space, nothing but their own breathing. Those inside the fighters were fortunate to have their own internal life support systems, but still the silence was eyrie.

In silence they watched the empire's monstrous weapon position itself. In silence they watched it fire. In silence they saw the great light stream down onto the island they called home. In silence they saw the great light consume it. When the light stopped, there was silence.

"May the maker watch over us," Greagoir whispered.

"GO!" Jowan yelled.

Daveth and Devons pushed forward, their fighters going forth. On their red imperial flight suits, they had painted symbols of the chantry and the rebellion itself. They didn't fly straight, and the passengers attached to their tow cables trembled. A few were even thrown off as they lurched, adjusting their course towards the Star Destroyer.

* * *

"CAPTAIN!"

Moff Uclas's eyes snapped towards the radar operator.

"Heat sources coming in from the debris field, two of our own Strike fighters, and..." the operator looked at his console and widened his eyes. "Meteorites, they're releasing them from their tow cables."

"Fire cannons, shoot those projectiles, then the fighters," the captain commanded, unwilling to waste time on confirming targets.

"What is going on?" Uclas demanded.

"Obviously Moff the locals have performed a gambit and are using stolen fighters to do it," the captain said.

"That's impossible, primitives like that couldn't possible fly our fighters, and what do you mean a gambit?" Uclas asked.

"They drew us in with a sacrificial target, we destroy the target and in our exposed state they attack us. It seems the primitives aren't to be as underestimated as your believe!"

* * *

Daveth cursed as the ventral cannons fired. He swerved, doing his best to dodge the onslaught of fire. The meteorites were blown to bits, but luckily the commanders had deployed their crews. What wasn't so lucky was their landings. Greigor, Byran and Cousland landed smoothly with some of their men. Jory awkwardly rolled, his jetpack impacting with the surface of the star destroyer. It damaged the pack, triggering the rockets and shooting Jory off course. A bad death, not the first or the last.

"MAKER GRANT THEM STRENGTH!" Devons yelled.

His great cry was his death cry. Blasts from the ventral cannons caught his fighter's wings, then triggered an explosion that destroyed his fighter.

* * *

The captain of the Star Destroyer shook his head as the other fighter banked, going out of range of the ventral cannons. He wasn't going to waste the turbo lasers on a single target either.

"Fighter crews target the Rycer fighter, I want additional fighters to get to the weapon and escort it back to our main force," he said.

"Even if they have fighters now, they won't be able to destroy the Death Light," Uclas said.

"They've come up here with a plan, we lose the Light it will put weapon's research back years, deploy twenty fighters."

"They'll have two fighters of their own at best, the Rycer class is inferior to the Tie as well."

"Moff Uclas, once again you are underestimating them, the Tie-Fighters are new ships our crews haven't had adequate time to adapt to yet. Send a message to the fleet, request additional forces to assist," the captain explained, half talking to Uclas, and commanding his crew.

"This is an embarrassment," the Moff snarled.

"No, it's fighting smart, taking necessary precautions," the captain retorted.

The Moff let out a laugh, turning away from the captain and looking at his great weapon. A single shot was supposed to end the rebellion, but he didn't mind a few more. He was imagining the glorious hellfire more of his weapons would create. But then he stopped day dreaming and focused on the bridge windows. A Knight-trooper was floating in front of it. He suddenly stuck something to the glass, alongside his allies, one of whom was a dwarf in a make shift space suit.

"Captain," he whispered, looking to the man.

With a shake of his head, the captain sighed. He smiled though, when he saw the panicked look on the Moff's face.

"I told you, you shouldn't have underestimated them," he said.

The Knight-trooper put up his middle finger, before the windows were blown apart.

* * *

Dworkin's 'safe' explosives were a complete success. The windows were shattered by their explosion. Bodies flew out of the bridge, clawing at space, at their throats, desperate for air. Their eyes froze, blood and saliva coming out of their mouths as they floated. A few of the rebels though were grabbed by their floating opponents. Two of Cousland's men had their oxygen tanks disconnected. Dworkin marvelled at his work, his amazed whistle echoing over the radio.

"Save your breaths, only speak when necessary," Greagoir reminded the rebels.

They knew the plan, they calmed down, showing no reaction to the victory. Then they began floating into the Star destroyer's bridge. The main hatch had been sealed, but one of Cousland's men was a scoundrel, he could hack the lock.

* * *

An alarm was blaring inside the Star Destroyer. Crewmen and women whom had expected to do nothing, were suddenly rushing to their posts. Squads of uniformed security ran to the armoury. They put on armour and picked up blasters, joining with the Storm trooper regiments to guard key areas. In one of the main server rooms, a technician was looking at his console in horror.

"The bridge is down, but the major posts are being manned, the helm, propulsion, weapons," the young man gasped.

"Secure life support areas, what about our firewalls?" the first officer asked, assuming command as expected of her.

"Locked down, but they've hacked through the lock of the bridge door, created their own encryption, I can't get it open from here."

The first officer marched to the communication wall, pulling off one of the cylinder devices.

"Commander, I want all your attention to be focused on taking back the bridge," she said.

"Yes Ma'am!"

The ship's marine commander put on his helmet, and led his men into a sprint to the bridge. They ran past a squadron of fighter pilots, all finishing putting on their uniforms and helmets. Tie Fighters were prepared and the pilots climbed in, their wings roaring before they entered the silence of space. The first officer meanwhile adjusted the frequency of her communicator for a ship wide broadcast.

"All crew are to carry on as normal, we will not retreat, the empire will not be embarrassed by primitives," she declared.

She made her way out of the main hub, and began walking towards the hanger. Death troopers were waiting for her, silent as she looked towards a shuttle.

* * *

"All right, that's our signal Bella," Kallian said.

Two more strike fighters emerged from the debris field. Attached to their tow cables were mages from the Ferelden circle, Jowan, Niall and Petra amongst them. As the fighters jerked and swerved because of their inexperienced pilots, Petra held on to a younger mage who needed support. The one underneath him however was thrown off, unfortunately grabbing two more mages. It was akin to someone drowning, dragging others with them in the panic.

"Jump now," Bella commanded.

The mages let go of the cables, throwing themselves on a projected course towards the Star destroyer bridge. A few panicked, realising the enormity of their task and going into shock. They twisted in mid flight, off course, or clawed at their throats, again going off course but at least guaranteeing quicker deaths. Petra and Niall landed, followed by Jowan, who needed Greagoir to grab him. He nodded to them as the remaining ten mages landed, then went about commanding his crew through points of his finger. They were a crew, limited, but capable of moving the Star Destroyer, and firing the weapons.

Niall removed a canister from his belt. He opened it, and poured out a line of liquified lyrium. Greagoir and his templars all took out their own lyrium packs, adding to the line Niall had started. Around the line went, forming a floating and flowing circle of blue. As the mages made their preparations, Greagoir and his templars continued operating the Star destroyer. Gradually the ship began to move, the crew knew what the target was. The turbo lasers turned, charged, and fired.

Imperial Tie pilots looked in shock as their own Star Destroyer fired on the Moff's prized weapon. Ventral cannons began firing on them, shooting them down, to their horror. The swarm of Tie fighters separated, ten breaking off to fire on the bridge. Streams of blaster fire suddenly flanked them, breaking the formation and forcing them away from the bridge. Two more Rycer fighters came out of space, firing proton torpedoes that disregarded the fighters, slamming against the Star Destroyer.

Ash adjusted his targeting computer, his shots were off. The Tie Fighters were fast, and the greater numbers was an advantage they couldn't overcome without the circle's plan. He looked to his side, seeing Porkings flying low.

"Porkings increase your altitude," he said.

"I'm all right," the man said.

"Pull up!"

Porkings swerved, disappearing around the port side of the Destroyer. Ash pulled his fighter up, barely dodging several shots. He looked at his rear view camera, four Tie Fighters were on him. Others were creating attack formations around the Star Destroyer's weapons. They also formed defences around the Death Light. The Twi'lek swerved his fighter, performing wild moves to keep his pursuit guessing.

"Kallian, Bella, Daveth, anyone, if I can get some support," he requested over the radio.

* * *

One of the Tie fighter pilots cursed as the Rycer dodged his blaster fire. The Tie's speed was better than the Rycer, which was something to get used to. He adjusted his targeting computer, a new more complicated design he hadn't been trained in how to use. His wing men made room for him, an invitation to finish the primitive off. The Rycer fired at a formation attacking the bridge. The cowards broke off, one even falling to the primitive's flurry of beams.

'Fool,' the pilot thought.

Two more of his wing men broke off, preparing to approach the bridge from either side. They fired, beams slamming into the ship, trailing up it towards the bridge.

'Primitive fools, you can never win,' the pilot thought.

He targeted the primitive, preparing to fire a torpedo. The Rycer swerved, just as a second Rycer flew towards him, its cannons blazing.

"IMPOSSIBLE!" the pilot yelled, the blasts breaking one of his wings.

The man cursed and screamed, his fighter diving. The last thing he saw before he crashed, was his ally's beams slamming into the bridge.

* * *

Bella looked at the bridge, breathing a sigh of relief. The mages had succeeded in the first step. Their circle of lyrium glowed, creating a field that blocked the blasts. She saw two of the mages pass out from the strain, and the field itself disappeared. Ash flew beside her, nodding to her. They flew at the formations of Tie fighters, together. The Sith were so focused on the bridge, they were easily flanked by the Rycers. Kallian approached from another side, and Daveth from another. Their blasts hit the enemies, sending some crashing into the others.

"Got one," Daveth grinned.

"Don't get cocky," Kallian chided him.

Greagoir grabbed one of his templars, redirecting him to a gunnery station as he checked over the mages. Two passed out, others close to falling. Niall and Petra, even Jowan to his credit, all seemed to be mimicking the incredible determination Daylen had shown. He was with them now, through them. The circle of lyrium glowed again, continuing to move with the ship as it repositioned to fire on the Light again. Their portside cannons released blasts on the satellite, pelting it and destroying some of its escort.

* * *

Inside the Star Destroyer, the imperial marine detachment had been running down the corridor to the bridge, when they were fired upon. The commander had his men hugged the walls with their backs. He looked down the corridor, seeing the defensive formation the rebels had formed. Some had taken off their space suits, clearing their vision. The Storm troopers fell easily, many of them green recruits, using new equipment they hadn't been trained in out of basic. He himself had transferred to the project because he thought it would be easy. Orbital postings on undeveloped worlds usually were.

"PUSH BACK!" he yelled.

He fired his rifle, only to dive as a bomb was thrown towards him. Whatever it was, it had a blast radius greater than a thermal detonator, killing several of his men and flowing down their way, where all the air was. The commander patted his burning arm and tore away his helmet. He needed a clear shot at the man who was clearly the commander. He looked down the sight of his rifle, and fired at the primitive. But much to his shock, a red haired primitive jumped in front of the man, taking the bolt to the head. The primitive commander took a grenade from the dwarf there, and threw it straight towards him.

* * *

Cousland got a sense of satisfaction from blowing the marine commander to hell. He wouldn't be the last, but his death at least avenged Gilmore's. Cousland looked down at his friend for only a moment. Before he moved his squad forward. Picking up the heavy weapons, they formed a defensive line, waiting for the next squad to come and take the bridge. When Cousland caught sight of their black armour, he rolled the barrel of his gatling gun. Blaster fire flew from one side of the corridor to the other, men screaming in pain as it downed them. Cousland forgot about the people falling around him and kept on firing. When his gatling overheated he pulled out one of his pistols and fired until that overheated. Beside him he spotted Dworkin launching his 'safe' grenades with a slingshot, they were effective precision explosives against single targets.

Another rebel fell, the man beside him taking his rifle to maintain the flurry of beams. At this point it didn't matter if they were accurate, they just had to keep firing and buying as much time as they could. One struck a thermal detonator with the flat side of his sword, batting it back towards the imperials. Another rebel fired a rocket, throwing the troopers back like rag dolls. Both the rocket and sword wielding rebels however fell to the flurry of counter fire.

"DWORKIN!" Cousland yelled at the dwarf, throwing his gatling gun aside and picking up the rocket launcher.

Dworkin grabbed a rocket from his pack and loaded it into Cousland's rocket launcher. The nobleman of Ferelden yelled as he fired the rocket down the corridor.

* * *

Imperial pilots flew away from the Light, choosing their own safety over a weapon. That made them smart, not cowards, as the cloud of fighters began flying back towards the Star Destroyer. They flew into a formation, firing on the capital ship, pelting it with so much blaster fire that explosions were triggered on the surface of the ship, and areas of it broke apart.

"Your target is now an enemy ship, defence fighters focus fire on the front side of the Star Destroyer, attack fighters, concentrate on the weapons, and thrusters," the first officer explained over the radio.

From the hanger she was using a shuttle as a make shift command post. She had broadcasted crews in the projected areas to evacuate, not wanting her own allies to die for her own tactics. Her commands were obeyed, as through her link to the ship's display, she saw that the portside and ventral weaponry had been destroyed.

"Is anyone left onboard, this is the ISD Dominance, approaching to back up," she heard over the radio.

"Dominance, this is the Regulator, request additional boarding teams, if possible we wish to take back our bridge," the first officer said.

"Negative Regulator, evacuate now, we are projected to arrive within firing distance in two minutes," the Dominance officer said.

"No, we can take back the ship, we've already robbed them of weapons, it'll only be a matter of time before we take back the bridge or they run out of oxygen," she explained.

"We will deploy fighters to assist, and delay firing for five minutes, your ship however is already in bad shape, we will not risk additional casualties trying to take it back."

For keeping his men safe, she understood, but for abandoning her own she cursed him. She began putting on combat gear, a chest plate and shoulder armour. Then she pulled a blaster out and prepped it for combat.

"All non-combat or security personnel, abandon ship," she spoke into the intercom, giving a ship wide broadcast.

She would save the lives of her crew, but she also had her pride. The empire would mock her name if they discovered that a ship had been lost under her command.

* * *

Daveth grit his teeth together, feeling each explosion behind him. His pursuit were firing wildly, knowing he wouldn't be able to dodge forever. He flew past Kallian, their tactic to get their pursuers to hit each other failing.

"Their reinforcements are getting closer and we still haven't brought down their weapon," Kallian said.

"We're not even in firing range, not that we have anything left," Ash added.

"What are the mages doing?" Bella asked.

"It doesn't matter, if it strikes a blow to the empire, we let them do it," Daveth said.

He dived downwards at top speed, dodging a hail of blaster fire. Pulling the fighter up sharply, he twisted as his pursuit flew past him, adjusting their own positions, in his firing range. Daveth yelled as he fired his blasters, breaking one fighter apart, causing it to swerve into another.

Bella looked over her shoulders, from left to right, desperately flying to avoid the blasts of the Ti Fighters. She felt her fighter shake, a hit, but not enough to blow her up. Kallian went into full speed, straight towards the line of fighters pursuing Bella. Her pursuit fired at her, and she tilted her fighter, the streams of beams flying instead into Bella's pursuers. Firing her own cannons, Kallian kept on firing until her weapons overheated. Bella let out a scream as her fighter was hit, blowing her ship to pieces.

"NO!" Kallian yelled.

She looked at the pieces of Bella's fighter, at her charred body, then she dived down, screaming as she dodged more shots. Daveth and Ash joined up, shooting through three fighters, swooping over the bridge and splitting, attacking the flanks of the Tie formations. Just when it seemed the fighters were about to attack the Star Destroyer's main thrusters, streams of beams came out of space.

"I'M HERE!"

Porkings swooped down, yelling as he fired his cannons again and again. Launching torpedoes that hit their mark with every shot. Daveth, Ash and Kallian looked at the portly man's fighter in shock.

"I was the bud of so many jokes, but not anymore, SUCK ON IT IMPS!" he yelled.

He let out a flurry of blasts, breaking apart one fighter after another. Spinning, Porkings hit the more frail Tie-Fighters with his wings, sending them crashing into the sides of the Star destroyer.

"Whoa, who would have thought Porkings would be our best hope?" Daveth asked.

* * *

The Captain of the Dominance looked at the Regulator, seeing the damage that had been done to it, and the continued defiance of the stolen fighters. Truly the rebellion was desperate and foolish, whatever they were intending to accomplish would be no victory.

'So what if we are parted with a single super weapon, the empire is more than that,' he thought.

The captain crossed his arms together, narrowing his eyes at the bridge of the Regulator.

"Sir, we will be within firing range in thirty seconds," one of his crew members told him.

"Fire on my order only," he said.

He felt the odd looks of the soldiers around him, all of them wondering why he wouldn't just finish the fight. It wasn't for the crew perhaps still on the Regulator. He wanted to see what the mages had planned.

On the regulator, the first officer cursed the captain. A primitive of Thedas, smarter than most Primitives, given power where he shouldn't have been granted it. The Dominance was supposed to patrol that part of Thedas, if it had been there, the rebels would never have claimed Ferelden.

'Curse you, Perrin Threnhold!'

Next Episode 19: Their defiance

* * *

This is why it was difficult for me, character deaths, but you'll see where I'm going with it. Happy Christmas everyone


	19. Episode 19

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Episode 19: Their defiance

 **Memoirs of Perrin Threnhold, former Viscount of Kirkwall**

 **Chaos, bloodshed, it consumed my home planet. We were stuck in old beliefs, never advancing beyond swords and horses and sails, or gods. Development, advancement, these things weren't even in the thoughts of our leaders. As a result our society could never move forward, beyond our petty wars of religion and history. I vowed that if there existed any power that could drag our people forward, I would swear allegiance to it. When the empire came, most nations pitifully fought back, or bowed as if they were gods.**

 **As a result of their defiance, they died, just as Fausten Amell did, in spite of me turning the city under Sith control. He believed whole heartedly that our society would have moved forward without the Sith. But I know what progress would have been made, more war, perhaps a blight, an explosion from the circles that everyone knew, or should have known would happen. In short, the near destruction of our world, because of our actions, because of the past coming back, to try and recreate what was lost.**

 **No one believed in creating something new, but the Empire did. They created a new world, a world where people slowly begin to accept the limited influence their gods have on their live. This, from my perspective, is a far better world. What need does one have for a god anyway? Only the weak need another to guide them.**

 **That is why, even if it was a token, I chose command, I chose to climb the highest, to the stars.**

* * *

 _ISD Dominance_

Perrin Threnhold stood with his arms crossed. He wore a simple grey uniform, just as every recruit on his ship did. They were operating with minimal crew, and substandard equipment. Equipment back packs, standard blaster rifles without scopes, and scout class S-13 Sting fighters. They were the token navy, the 'Thedas system defence corps'. Yet it was their ship that had been transferred to save the Moff's weapon. Threnhold huffed, the years had been kind to his looks. He had greying blonde hair and a grey goatee. His eyes remained fixed on the Regulator, on the small blue glow he could see coming from the nearly destroyed bridge.

"Keep our fighters back," he commanded.

Some of the more 'die for' loyalists of the empire looked at him as if he committed blasphemy. But he would not waste his men when other officers did. He would feed his curiosity, then attack.

'The Ferelden circle, what circle was your grandson sent to Fausten?' Threnhold wondered.

But in truth he knew, and believed that Daylen Amell was leading the rebellion's desperate assault.

* * *

 **Let it in, let the force in. It's with you, you just have to let it in.**

Daylen screamed as he woke up, looking around at his surroundings and breathing hard. He was on a carriage, a thin sheet between him and the rest of the world. Shadows walked with the carriage, and knelt beside Daylen, a disapproving look in her eyes was Wynn.

"Stop, don't try to move around too much, you've all but exhausted your mana and stamina, you have a fever too and you've lost a lot of blood. I've been treating you with magic and poultices, but right now I think its best that you recover your mana the natural way," she explained.

"Daylen," Irving said, his voice empty as he touched Daylen's shoulder.

Daylen followed the man's arm to the bandages wrapped around his hand, or where his hand should have been.

"No, no," he whispered.

He grabbed hold of his blanket, wrapping it across his bandaged chest and stumbling out of the carriage. There was a bandage around his scarred eye, across his shoulder, around his belly, and he was limping. People looked at him amazed, the founder of the rebellion, back from near death. The bed sheet was thrown aside as he looked left and right, his eye adjusting to the light.

"Get Lord Loghain and Queen Anora, quickly," he heard someone say.

Daylen barged past several people, looking around for any blue or yellow robes.

"Jowan, where are you? Petra? Niall? Ergon, Harry, Nilrem, anyone, the mages, where are they?" he asked.

"Daylen," he heard someone call out behind him.

He turned, seeing Finn running towards him, alongside Leliana and Alistair.

"Hey, you need to be resting," Alistair said.

Daylen brought his stump up, placing it on Finn's chest. It intimidated the young man, and he stepped back, shaking as he saw the fury in Daylen's eyes.

"Where are they? Where are the others from the circle?" he demanded.

"They, they, they were carrying out the next stage of the plan," Finn stammered.

"No, they were supposed to wait, to wait for me," Daylen stepped back, trying to run a hand through his hair with his hand, but it wasn't there.

"They had to, if not that weapon would still be there," a voice spoke up from behind Daylen.

Loghain, Anora and Cathrien revealed themselves, the older man looked at Daylen with the emotionless expression expected of a commander. The kind of man who could send his men on a mission he knew none would survive. Daylen turned to him, pure hatred in his eyes.

"I should be with them, it was my plan," he snarled, again trying to grab Loghain with a stump.

"Taking a Star Destroyer would have shown the planet that the empire could be fought, but, the plan changed as all tactics do in combat. The priority became bringing down that destroyer weapon, a weapon that they have used to annihilate Ferelden, I am more than aware of the sacrifice," Loghain explained.

"Ferelden is gone?" Daylen asked.

"A sadly necessary sacrifice, it put the Star Destroyer and their weapon into a position that would enable us to attack them," Anora said.

Daylen stumbled back, looking up at the sky. He could see it, the battle taking place above them. Alistair and Leliana joined his sides, putting his arms over their shoulders as they carried him back to the carriage. The people of Ferelden looked at Daylen as he passed, some in admiration, others in begrudging respect. He saw strangers looking at him with such feelings. Even Loghain regarded him with immense admiration, but also pity.

"That boy is brilliant," Loghain said.

"Truly father?" Anora asked.

"Both wise and brave, but too kind, he will learn the burden of a leader, as I had to," the hero of the river Dane lowered his head, seeing himself in the young man named Daylen Amell.

Alistair and Leliana helped Daylen onto his carriage, where Wynn waited, tapping her hips. Irving also sat there, looking at Daylen emotionlessly. They sat him between them, and Wynn began to unwrap the bandages on Daylen's chest. She applied an ointment to his scarred skin and Leliana helped her to reapply the bandages. Leliana tried to get Daylen to look at her, to get him to notice her.

"You fought well, better than anyone there," she said.

"That's bull shit," he snarled.

"Hey take it easy," Alistair said.

"But it's true, everyone fought desperately, with everything they had. Who has the right to say that one person fought better than another. In the end, it was everyone together who prevailed, all I did was fight a Sith lord, and I won only by the skin of my teeth, look at me, I can't fight like this, I'm useless now," Daylen explained, trying to touch his face with a hand, but rubbing his stump against his bandages.

"That's real bull shit," Wynn said.

Her voice was harsher than Daylen usually recognised it being. She began to unwrap his head bandages and ran her glowing fingers over the burn mark around Daylen's face.

"We could get our hands on cybernetics, make enough allies and we can repair the damage to your body with this new technology the empire 'gifted' us with. Besides that, you may not be able to wield a sword without aid, but you are still one of the most creative and powerful mages I have met, another year of training and you'll be equal to Irving before his Tranquility, and that's just with one hand. Loghain didn't make his point well, but what he meant was that sometimes what is needed more than a commander's life is his mind," she explained, slowly reapplying the bandages and covering Daylen's eye again.

She placed a comforting hand on Daylen's stump, looking at him, perhaps like a mother would. Wynn herself didn't know, she never got to hold her son. Her words had reached Daylen, his eye welled with tears and he looked at Wynn.

"They're stronger than people believe, they didn't need me to win, they can beat this," he said.

"Seeing what's been achieved already, I have hope that they will Daylen," Alistair said.

They nodded to one another and smiled. Leliana kissed Daylen on the cheek and grabbed a hold of Alistair's arm as they walked out. Wynn finished with the bandages and moved a bowl of water to Daylen's side.

"Drink, you're dehydrated, and rest Daylen, the flames of rebellion will still burn bright tomorrow, you're the one who lit them," Wynn said, before she too left the tent.

As soon as she had gone, Daylen crossed his legs together and closed his eyes. He breathed, simply breathed, concentrating on his heart beat. Then he tried to feel it, the force. He tried so desperately to find it, the power of the force. First came his fear of his friends dying, then anger over his powerlessness. Then hatred for his enemy, the empire, he would kill them all.

'No,' he thought, shaking his head and hating himself for even thinking.

The dark side would not be his tool, that he swore. He looked at the holocron, held it for a moment and then put it back on the planks of the carriage.

"Are you trying to use the force Daylen?" Irving asked him.

"I am, but I'm failing, miserably," Daylen said.

"You're focused too much on finding the force, but it is said that the force is all around us, perhaps it is a matter of letting the force come to you," the Tranquil said.

"Let it in," Daylen whispered the words he had heard so many times.

Again he closed his eyes and breathed. He didn't make an effort at first, he lowered all of his defences. Then he felt it, a feeling he couldn't truly describe. From there, he thought of his friends.

'Niall, Petra, Jowan, fight on!'

* * *

 _(30 Seconds to Mars-This is War)_

The mages of the Ferelden tower grit their teeth together, everyone of them focusing with everything they had. They poured their mana together, and thought of what they had helped Daylen Amell to create. Not just a fire, not just a rebellion, and not just a victory. But something else entirely, something no mage had created, not even as far back as the Evanuris. A spell that summoned an embodiment of will and power. An avatar of determination, brought about by multiple mages joined in a singular thought.

Sparks of electricity surged through space, affecting the instruments of the fighters. Kallian, Ash, Porkings and Daveth, as well as every other fighter pilot looked at the Star Destroyer in shock. The energy surged around its hull, and inside their space suits, the mages screamed as their veins glowed, and eyes shined with a bright blue light. Blocks of blue energy came together, like a ship being constructed in a factory. Plates of armour formed over cogs and joints, all of them rising from a shining bright halo around the mages of Ferelden. Gigantic dragon maws rose, attached to arms that were also raised, a cannon from one maw, whilst from the other came a grand sword. It stretched, crushing several fighters as it took shape. A straight long sword blade, attached to the arm of the great construct, runes of lightning, fire and ice swept up the flat sides of the blade, glowing intensively. Spikes stretched from the shoulder of the arm with the cannon, whilst a shield appeared over the shoulder of the sword arm.

A symbol glowed on that shield, the red dogs of Ferelden, then the eagle of the Amell family. Then it turned into the symbol of the circle of magi, their symbols, to be used their way, not the way the empire or chantry demanded. The body shined, lines of energy curving around it. Smooth horns stretched diagonally at the back of the helmet, whilst another curved at the front. Blue slits shined on the eye holes of the helmet, before finally, and most spectacularly the final part of the construct was completed. A cloak stretched from the back of the construct, the energy thin, forming a window that revealed the fade.

"What in the name of the force is that?" one of the Tie-fighter pilots asked.

"What are those?"

Screams echoed over the radio, driving fear into each of the pilots. For most, it was their first experience of the wonders, and terrors Thedas had to offer.

Daveth looked out of his window, seeing green ghosts of all things passing through some of the Tie-fighters. Inside the fighters, the pilots screamed as the spirits shocked them. Fighters blew up left and right, and formations of spirits joined each of the rebel fighters.

"What are they though?" Kallian asked.

She looked at two spirits beside her, and gasped. For a moment they changed, from faceless ghosts, to those whom she loved. Her father and cousins, the three of them smiling at her, before they flew ahead. They commenced kamikaze strikes against several fighters, giving Kallian room to fire her cannons and missiles, blazing a trail of explosions behind her. The great construct raised its cannon, the eyes of the maw glowing with fire, before a miniature sun was fired from the barrel. It careened through space, consuming a few unlucky fighters, before finally slamming into the empire's prided orbital weapon.

"Yes, YES!" Daveth yelled, seeing the grand machine twist and crunch as the orb of flame consumed it.

"We did it," Kallian said.

"YEEEHOOO!" Ash and Porkings screamed.

Everyone on Thedas saw the destruction of the great weapon, the greatest sign of defiance they had ever conjured. What was believed to be the greatest threat in Thedas thirty years ago, was now facing the true threat to Thedas. The construct of the magi raised its sword over its head, before pointing it at the Dominion and two more approaching ships.

"This, is, our..." Niall, Jowan, Petra, and all the other mages spoke together, facing the same direction, their will as one. "DEFIANCE!"

With a swing of its sword, the Defiance closed the breach and the Star Destroyer's thrusters activated, sending the ship forward.

Greagoir looked at the mages, all of them determined, some knees shaking, yet still standing. They stood stronger than they ever had before. In his long life as a templar, and later a knight-trooper, Greagoir had seen countless harrowings, and dozens of apprenticeships. He witnessed the failure and successes of many mages, some he had believed in, and had been disappointed by. Others he had underestimated, and been surprised by. Truly he was surprised, and even proud of every single mage standing on the bridge with him.

They stood resolute, defiant, true representations of the rebellious spirit that had been suppressed across Thedas. Not anyone was putting more effort in than the other. Jowan, Petra and Niall stood at the front of the formation, Jowan was mediocre at times, Niall was on senior enchanter level but absent minded at times and Petra was Wynn's student, and like her in her youth in many ways. Those three stood out to Greagoir, at least at first. Then he imagined the faces of the other mages, and he imagined that they all possessed the face of the one man who had given them this determination.

"Daylen Amell!"

* * *

Plagueis looked over at his former master. Tenebrous looked at the hologram of the young mage. His face didn't seem so defiant, rather unassuming actually. The Bith turned the hologram off and looked back to the battle. Both Sith lords were there as observers, the captain of the ship, Hyden was shouting orders to his men to support the Dominance. The Furious and the Warmonger joined the fight, circling the renegade ship. Plagueis sensed the astonishment and shock each of the lowly force-less soldiers sensed. They feared magic, and Plagueis imagined how worse that fear would be with the force and magic combined.

'Genetic perfection,' Plagueis thought.

Tenebrous felt through the force, sensing the fear of his supposed allies. None of whom shared in the grand plan of the Sith, not the plan shared by him, his former apprentice and the remainder of their order. They were all set on following their orders, on surviving. But there was one, one with ambition, and curiosity. Curious himself, Tenebrous sensed and found it, the curious man, Perrin Threnhold. A token commander with a token force, observing the battle, waiting for his moment to strike. But unlike the other vipers in the nest, this was a man with a sense of grand purpose. An intent for his planet, and a curious need.

"He is not there Threnhold," he said, before suddenly, he felt nothing.

His mouth curved on what was the equivalent of a Bith smirk. Plagueis saw this and looked at his former master.

"Impressive man Daylen Amell, and there is another impressive man in Captain Threnhold," Tenebrous elaborated.

Plagueis didn't need to look through the force, to know that Threnhold was a man of great mental fortitude. He discovered Tenebrous's probing and expelled the sith lord on a whim. Or his focus was so completely on the battle that his mind was incapable of being read. But there was one thing his former master was able to read. It was also common knowledge too, that Threnhold had been a friend to Fausten Amell, believed to be Daylen's grandfather. The Sith lords watched as the great knight construct swept its sword around, slicing through several fighters. It fired its cannon, sending another ball of hydrogen into space.

"Get in close, target its left side," Hyden commanded.

The Warmonger levelled its portside turbo lasers, also releasing another squadron of fighters. But just as quickly as the Star Destroyer positioned itself, the knight dragged its sword through the side of the ship, creating a hull breach that reverberated through several areas. Hyden screamed at his soldiers, commanding them to fall back and focus on attacking with fighters. The Warmonger didn't fare so well either, it tried to fire on the knight, but suffered a direct hit from the cannon.

* * *

Kallian pushed her fighter to its full speed, using the knight's sun like projectile as cover. She swerved as the projectile struck the imperial ship, electricity surged through it, an explosion rocked it and decimated the shields. The elf saw the look of fear in the eyes of the bridge crew as she fired her blasters, tearing through it and burning several of the humans inside. She kept on flying, going for the miniscule warship that first responded.

"This is for everyone that has suffered because of the empire," she whispered to herself.

Suddenly, her ship shook and she felt her cockpit canopy shatter. Pushing on the control sticks, Kallian screamed defiantly, flying straight for the bridge. But a laser shot through her ship, throwing her out of it, shattering her body and disintegrating her armour. Kallian died, without realising she had failed to kill her enemy. She died thinking of a man planet side, a prince who tried to save her from her hatred.

"Alistair," she whispered.

Daylen raised his head, shaking it as he felt the calm and silent end of an elf who loved Alistair. He thought of the utter waste of life, but through the force, he kept on watching.

* * *

Fire, fire, fire, fire, that was all there was to Cousland and Dworkin. They focused only on the fight in front of them. Aedan kept on firing his pistols, whilst Dworkin prepped his grenades. Thermal detonators rolled into their hiding places. Seeing them as annoyances, they threw them back down the corridor and continued firing. Throwing aside his empty pistol, Aedan loaded his second pistol, the final clip.

"How much have you got Dworkin?" he asked the dwarf.

"Fireworks mostly GAAGH!" a laser burnt Dworkin's arm, forcing him to cover.

He rolled a thermal across the floor, giving it to Aedan who threw it.

"It looks like it's the end of the line rich boy," Dworkin said.

Aedan took a deep breath, shooting one trooper, then another, then a third, then three more who came into his sight. He ducked for cover again, taking a mirror out of his pack and using it to see from behind cover. Pushing her men forward was the second officer, a look of utter contempt on what would have been a good looking face (in Aedan's opinion). She was firing her own E-1, yelling at her troops to push on.

"We can't let them get through the door," Cousland said.

"No shit," Dworkin chuckled.

Again he took a deep breath, raising his blaster, popped out of cover and fired. He brought down two men before his pistol clicked, and he threw it aside.

"Ready to go out in a blaze of glory?" the dwarf asked.

"With you, no way," Aedan drew his sword, his family sword. "This is my way of going down, father, mother, brother, I will soon join you, but first, I'm going to kill this bitch."

He tossed his helmet away, and activated a band on his arm. A field surrounded him, deflecting a blaster shot as he walked out of cover. The last of the Couslands held up his blade, showing the Highever sigil on the hilt. Then with a yell he broke off into a run. The imperial marines began firing, and throwing grenades. Cousland rolled to the side, held his sword out in front of him as the bolts hit his chest. He sprinted the last length and crashed his sword through the head of one of his enemies. Yanking the blade free, he bashed a trooper across the head with the hilt, using it as a club to batter, and swinging his arm wildly. His target was the officer, who narrowed her eyes at him.

"Primitive fool," she growled.

She raised her blaster, firing it again and again into Cousland's chest. Bolts slammed into his back, finally leaving scorch marks as his field faded. He thrust his sword at the woman, cutting her cheek. With a look of utter contempt, the imperial officer shot Cousland in the gut, whilst two of her men shot his back knees. He fell, still trying to stab her with his sword. She raised her rifle to his head and smirked.

"Pathetic," Cousland remained defiant, even as she pulled the trigger.

Dworkin flinched, hearing the final blaster shot. He looked out of cover and at Cousland's body, face burnt by the bolt. Taking a deep breath, Dworkin did the only thing he could, raised his hands and walked out. The storm troopers and marines raised their rifles, holding as their commander stepped forward.

"A dwarf, cute, at least some of you understand your limits," she said.

"I do," Dworkin said, kneeling to the imperials.

"I'm still going to kill you."

"Wait, wait please, I'm valuable to the empire," Dworkin raised his hands, his expression pleading and fearful.

"How can a mere dwarf be of use to the empire?" the officer asked.

"I have a message for them," Dworkin said.

The imperial officer shook her head as her men laughed at the dwarf.

"Fine, what is this message?" she asked.

"Don't fuck with the Thedas rebels, especially us dwarves!"

Dworkin laughed as he ripped open his shirt, revealing the numerous explosives strapped to his chest. One fuse was lit, and the imperial officer's eyes froze in horror as it reached the bomb. Dworkin went out as he lived, with a bang.

On Thedas Daylen gripped his chest, gritting his teeth together as he felt the fiery deaths of Dworkin and Cousland.

* * *

Daveth twisted his fighter around, barely managing to shoot down another imperial strike fighter. He dived underneath the stolen star destroyer, watching ships come out of hyper space. A Harrower class dreadnought, a Sith ship that Daveth had never seen before, escorted by two Star Destroyer. They began firing on the stolen ship, giving no care if they hit their own allies. Daveth saw a few bombers bombarding the bottom of the ship.

"No way, you're not stopping this ship," he said.

Porkins and Ash both had the same idea, firing their blasters into the bombers, flanking them. A star Destroyer approached behind the rebels, blowing up one of the thrusters.

"No," Daveth whispered.

He turned his fighter around, flying over his ship. Inside it, the mages began to fall to their knees, some even passing out from exhaustion.

"You're not getting past ME!" Daveth yelled.

He pushed his fighter to full speed.

"Divert all power to forward deflector shield, I don't want anything getting through," the captain of the enemy destroyer said.

"FOR THE REBELLION!" Daveth roared.

His ship barrel rolled straight through the destroyer's bridge, killing the crew and destroying the controls.

Daylen threw his head forward, gasping for breath as his tears began to well.

* * *

Greagoir watched the Star Destroyer's bridge blow, silently thanking the former thief, turned hero. He drew his sword as the blast doors to the bridge opened. The Knight-troopers lined up with their shields and blasters, bracing themselves. Marines floated onto the bridge, pelting the knights with blaster fire. Greagoir rushed through the blasts, slicing the oxygen tubes on one of the marines. He pushed another with his shield, and stabbed another through the neck. As two of his men fell, he jumped between the mages and the marines, not hesitating to shield them with his own body.

"Greagoir," Daylen whispered, rubbing the side of his head.

"He is dead isn't he?" Irving asked, in his tranquil way. "I will miss him, he was proud to do his duty!"

* * *

Two mages floated out of the circle, grabbing drifting blasters and shooting at the boarders.

"Keep going, KEEP GOING!" Petra yelled.

Blaster fire suddenly came down on the bridge, throwing the marines off of the bridge. Ash saluted the mages, before several missiles flew into his fighter.

"No, he freed himself from the empire," Daylen said. "Now, he's died for our fight!"

"He made a choice to fight Daylen, a choice," Irving retorted.

* * *

 _(You Say Run)_

"They're worn out, their mana is drained, open fire on the epicentre of their ritual," Threnhold commanded.

Finally, Threnhold's ship truly joined the battle, firing its turbo lasers on the knight construct. They pierced through its chest, breaking apart its armour like glass.

"We can't draw anymore power from the lyrium," Petra said.

"Plan B then," Jowan said as the defiance's sword arm was blown off.

"We'll launch you, with everything we've got left," one of the mages said.

"Just...take...one more ship," another whispered, already near unconsciousness.

"We don't have enough," Niall said.

"Maybe not lyrium or mana, but we still have blood," Jowan said.

"It's a taboo," Petra said.

"Daylen risked everything for a victory, why should we not do the same, besides we all knew what this trip meant."

Niall nodded in agreement with Jowan's speech. Both men suddenly bit, deep into their tongues, drawing blotches of blood that filled their suits. Red veins glowed across the construct as it raised its cannon. The imperial fighters continued firing on the warrior of mana, breaking more and more of its body apart. At the epicentre of the ritual, the remaining three mages grit their teeth together as they raised their arms. Then they yelled, releasing every bit of power they had left. A blast penetrated the Star destroyer, triggering explosions across the ship.

"Come on," one of the mages whispered.

"Come on," snarled another.

"ONE MORE SHOT!" they yelled.

The explosion consumed them, but the warrior they constructed, before fading, fired one more shot from the cannon. A fireball flew from the cannons as it faded, the flames swept aside by the new warrior that flew across the stars. It was a fighter sized, blood red knight, similar to what Daylen had constructed in his battle with the golems. The gigantic sword it carried, aimed towards the Star Destroyer that Tenebrous and Plagueis were stationed on.

"FIRE EVERYTHING!" Hyden yelled.

Turbo lasers and missiles blazed, trying to shoot down the weaving and curving knight. Inside it, Jowan, Niall and Petra, her own tongue bleeding, the blood filling their suits, put everything into maintaining the construct. Their target was only the Star Destroyer's bridge. Several fighters flew up behind the knight, only for Porkings to shoot at them.

"Who's a joke now bastards?" he asked, before he rammed the ships, blowing up them and him.

"You were never a joke Porkings," Daylen whispered.

Hyden stepped back in horror, whilst the two Sith lords stood still. Forward the knight charged, taking shots that tore off its legs. Niall's own body was split apart by the shot, his remains left behind. The knight kept moving forward, taking a blast that tore off its arm. Petra headless body was thrown from the construct. Jowan let out a final scream as he flew the knight forward, thrusting the lance. Suddenly, a blast ripped through the knight, shattering it to nothingness. Hyden huffed as Jowan's one armed body floated towards the bridge of his ship.

"Pathetic, it is pathetic of our forces to have been driven to this, pathetic," the officer chuckled.

"Still captain," Tenebrous said, stepping towards the glass. "It shows that the emperor's interest in this planet is well founded, we may have just found the perfect weapon to use against the republic, even more valuable than lyrium," he explained.

"I will personally recommend to the emperor that he have this planet bombed to dust, at best, if not then at least settle for wiping those mages out, slaughter them all," Hyden said.

Plagueis narrowed his eyes at the window. What the captain and his former master didn't notice as they debated, was that the mage was drawing a circle of blood across the glass. He squeezed his hand into a fist before throwing it forward.

Suddenly, smoke appeared on the glass, inside the bridge. A gigantic gloved hand shot out of it, punching Hyden with such force that he flew past Plagueis, breaking his neck against the blast door. Tenebrous looked at the hand for a moment.

"Fascinating," he said.

The hand then grabbed the Bith Sith lord, and Tenebrous yelled as he felt the grip break his shoulders and hips. Plagueis raised his hand, releasing a torrent of force lightning, burning his former master and the hand that was crushing him. The electricity spread to Jowan's body outside of the bridge. Finally having had enough, Jowan let go, and let himself drift back. Tenebrous fell onto the floor, some of the bridge crew already beginning to call for emergency care. They stopped however as Plagueis walked over Tenebrous, his light sabre at the ready.

"So," he coughed, blood flowing out of his mouth. "You finally get to do what you failed to do, on Bal'demnic," the Bith looked up at the Muun for a reaction that never came.

Plagueis felt an empty satisfaction as he drove his sabre through his former master's head. It was the way of their order, for an apprentice to surpass the master. Yet it didn't feel satisfying.

 _(Xion Theme)_

Jowan floated in space, his eyes beginning to freeze, locked on the distance of the galaxies far, far away.

'Did we do it Daylen, did we free our planet?' he wondered.

His mind drifted as his body did, to a time before war, to a time when they weren't bothered by the demands of the circle.

He was a boy again, meeting another mage.

 _"I'm Daylen, nice to meet you Jowan."_

He remembered their meeting, an ordinary one, no great adventure. Just the normal meeting he was lucky enough to have. They were teenagers again, laughing at one another's jokes. Using every opportunity they had, to look beyond the horizon.

 _"Why do you look at the stars Day?"_

 _"Well, why do you look across the lake?"_

 _"I'm wondering...what it would be like to be away from the tower, to be ordinary, to have a farm and a wife."_

 _"Sounds great, you'd just need to find someone who would put up with you."_

 _"Very funny. Well, what about you and the stars?"_

 _"I think they're beautiful."_

 _"Come on, you're not one for pretty things."_

 _"We know what the truth is now, that each of those stars, represents another galaxy, yet they're still so full of mystery. Out there, there's another world, even further than that is another world, the possibilities for life are endless. Some people look at those stars and see the end of everything, novas, asteroids, I look at them and I see hope for all life."_

 _"Wow, you make it sound so wondrous, I'd...like to settle for a farm."_

 _"That too, would be a wonderful life!"_

'Daylen, I wish you could see the stars as I do now, you were right, they are so beautiful!'

He raised his hand, fingers twitching as he moved them in a grabbing motion. His target, the world he called home.

'Daylen, I can imagine how jealous you are,' he thought. 'This is the best view in the galaxy.'

 _They were in the library, laughing at Maker knows what. He honestly couldn't remember, only that he was happy. And that he was exchanging looks with Lily as well._

 _He was holding him, his best friend, his hand gone, parts of his skin burnt and bleeding, but still trying to stand._

 _"Stop, just stop, rest now," he said._

 _"We'll do what needs to be done," Niall said._

 _"It is our fight too Daylen, let us do it," Petra whispered, kissing his forehead._

'Daylen,' everything was getting darker, there was no more light, and his body began to convulse.

Deprived of air, deprived of light he thrashed.

'You were my brother Daylen, I loved you, I hope, I pray, I believe that we will see each other again.'

Though suffocating, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He looked up at Petra, Niall, Lily, Kinnon and Greagoir, and smiled.

'There is no death, there is the force!'

* * *

 _(30 Seconds to Mars-100 Suns)_

Jowan, Petra, Niall, Greagoir, Daveth, he felt every death. Stumbling forward, Daylen gripped his head in agony. Sadness, rage, regret, every feeling around him filled his mind. He crashed out of the carriage, taking a few steps as he felt each and every one of the people he knew die, violently.

 _"The force is with...the maker...good, good...NOOO...AAAGH!...let it in...Daylen...HATE YOU!...always!"_

 _"No passion only...HELP!...Daylen...pointless, all of it pointless...LET IT GO!...wipe them out...slaughter them all...my chains are broken!"_

 _"UNLIMITED!...Must rest...the force is with...peace is a lie...welcome home...the Sith have returned...let go of your hatred...you were my brother!"_

Chaos, it was all he could hear, as he ran as fast as he could. Ran past the carriages and people, the force driving him faster than the guards could. Wynn looked at the torn carriage Daylen had darted out of. Irving stumbled out of it, causing Wynn to widen her eyes in shock. Slowly, his tranquil mark faded, and tears began to flow out of his eyes.

"Daylen," he whispered.

 _White and red ships were blown apart by imperial ships, and ships from an unknown galaxy. What was this? Daylen wondered, what was he seeing? Something that would happen? Something that had already happened? Something that was happening?_

 _"MEETRA!" a woman screamed._

 _An orange blade pierced through a woman's chest. She dropped her light sabre, looking up at the man in black armour. The white haired woman in front of him swung her light sabres with everything she had._

 _In a galaxy far, far away, a boy without eyes screamed, his mother rushing into the room. The veiled woman held her child, understanding herself that they had lost something._

 _A man in blue clothes sat at his chair, linking his fingers together and smiling. His eyes took on a yellow colour as he began to cackle._

 _Several robed men and women dropped to the floor, feeling a great disturbance in the force._

 _A green skinned creature, with elf like ears dropped his cane, lowering his head in sadness._

 _Storm troopers with blue marks on their armour, began marching towards some kind of temple. Led by a man with a light sabre._

 _A bald elf held the burnt body of his son, hopelessness and regret in his eyes. He lowered his head, but as he lifted it, his eyes were narrowed in anger. His eyes glowed an otherworldly blue._

Daylen screamed, the darkness and the light enveloping his body as he unleashed his agony. Amongst the ruins of Ferelden, ash coating his back as he slammed his hand into the crumbled dirt.

'It should have been me,' he thought. 'It should have been me...Daylen Amell, should have died, instead of them!'

He looked up at a robed figure, clutching the Sith Holocron as she waved her hand over his eyes.

"Sleep!"

Next final episode: Fire rising

* * *

A bit difficult to write this one, pretty much every friend Daylen ever made in the tower is gone, and through his first time using the force, Daylen felt every last one.

Its been a hell of a journey, and I've enjoyed every minute of it, hope everyone else has too.


	20. Season Finale

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

Well here it is, the finale, enjoy

* * *

Dragon Wars: Rebellion

Season Finale: Fire rising

Varric Tethras sat in his cabin, feeling the crashing of waves. Isabela's ship was docking at a smuggling port in the Marches. Hidden away from the empire, they were able to meet the rebels from Kirkwall. Leandra embraced Charade, both crying and mourning for their respective brother and father. As the Hawke's reunited, the dwarf continued to mull over the sheets of paper he held. Isabela found herself, unexpectedly giving food to the refugees, and smiling about it. For all her talk of independence, she actually liked helping people.

 _"All that is needed is a spark,"_ Varric wrote.

He paused and huffed, shaking his head as he chuckled. His stories were about adventure, sex, politics and things a bit too fantastic to have actually happened. Now he found himself writing the most important story of his life.

 _I heard it once said, that 'hope cannot save you'. I've heard it mocked, I have heard it scoffed at and the very idea of it abandoned._

 _But in the past few days, hope has been proven to be a good thing, maybe even the most important of things. There were a group of children, whom lived in the most cruel place they could. They were kept together, by one person, one person whose spark of hope grew more intense as he got older. He proved above all else that all that was needed was one spark to light a fire._

* * *

"A rebellion," imperial Prime Minister Augustus Tarkin scoffed.

"Yes minister," Plagueis said, bowing his head, but refusing to acknowledge the non force user as the will of the Sith.

It was his master whom embodied that will, but Plagueis knew the plan. Behind him knelt Threnhold, who kept his eyes on the floor, but he was still focused on the conversation taking place in front of him.

"Reports are coming in, circles across the planet are rising up in revolt, even the circle of Orlais," Plagueis said.

"Orlais, weren't Celene and Vivienne our most dedicated supporters?" the minister asked.

"The same could have been said for king Cailan, but that doesn't apply to the people they lead. Even in Kirkwall, Dumar and the grand Cleric have proven utterly useless, the majority of the Knight-Troopers under commander Meredith's command simply disappeared when the circle broke down. Significant casualties so far have been Moff Uclas, Darth Kaius and Tenebrous," Plagueis explained.

"So that is why you are alone, they managed to get into space?"

"Yes, I believe we have Captain Threnhold here to thank for eliminating the threat," the Muun smirked as he waved his hand over to the human.

"Step forward captain," the minister said.

Threnhold walked to Plagueis's side and stood to attention.

"Prime minster!"

"Captain, what are you loyal to, the empire, or your home planet?" he asked.

"Both, my home planet is now part of the empire, thus loyalty to one is loyalty to the other. This rebellion stands in the way of my home world progressing prime minister, I would like nothing more than to see it end," Threnhold explained.

"Good," the man said. "For your actions in ending the Ferelden rebellion, I grant you the title, admiral of the Thedas defence fleet. Report to the capital for your official promotion ceremony, you'll have four months to oversee construction of an armada to put down the rebellion once and for all."

"As you wish prime minister, and thank you," Perrin bowed his head, smirking when Tarkin's hologram faded.

A new hologram appeared, showing a man enshrouded by darkness. He sat atop some kind of throne.

"Is it done?" the human man asked.

"Threnhold is now admiral, the first step in the plan is complete," Plagueis said.

"Good, and the rebellion?"

"It survives my lord, in fact, it is safe to say that by the end of this day it will have grown. Once admiral Threnhold has received his fleet, we will be able to carry out the second part of your plan," the Muun explained.

"Indeed, you may leave us Threnhold, congratulations," the shrouded lord said.

Threnhold performed a salute, turning on his heel and marching out of the door. Once the door sealed itself, Plagueis looked up at his master, whom had his fingers linked together.

"I am waiting for an explanation," he said.

"Tenebrous, he focused too much on the power of the mages, he was so consumed by his wonder, that he forgot caution," Plagueis stated.

"You must have truly hated him to have killed him, despite my direct orders," the hooded man said.

"I admired his intellect, but not what he had put all of his faith in. Bith science, his genetic engineering and machinations, he believed he would fulfil the will of the dark side," the Muun explained.

"And you believe that you will master it, master the force, and death itself, do not forget though that that title has already been taken, Plagueis the wise," the hooded man put a mocking tone into his voice as he stood, his back bent slightly, hands frail, a contrast to what he was when he killed Juhani.

Despite this though, Plagueis seemed genuinely afraid. But also respectful of the sheer power his new master, his one true master commanded.

"You have not mastered death," he braved saying. "Death simply cannot find you, that is why you recruited me to your cause master."

The Muun's bravery was replied with a scoff, a light sentence for defiance, defiance the man found quite amusing. He sat down again, clicking his fingers together. An additional hologram appeared beside him. Plagueis froze, the fear welling within him. It was impossible, but his own eyes could see it. Standing before him, his old master, alive and well. Tenebrous crossed his arms over his chest, huffing in amusement of Plagueis's shock.

"This is your master's second apprentice, and offspring, Darth Venemis," the hooded man said.

Venemis laughed as Plagueis regained his composure, the Muun realising how foolish he had been. His old master had his secrets, things he withheld, fearful of the day Plagueis would surpass him. It made sense for him to create an apprentice of his own, one whom would not overthrow him.

"Venemis has a list of force sensitive beings, people who will make valuable allies in fulfilling the plan, I will begin recruitment of these beings, whilst Venemis will assume Tenebrous's identity and take on his part of the plan. You as well must play your part Plagueis," the flicked aside Venemis's hologram and continued looking at Plagueis. "We are reaching a critical point, the reformation of the Sith empire, a stronger empire than it could ever be under that mad man Vitiate. Do you understand what I ask of you?"

"Cast aside the ancient beliefs, the selfish desires, give all to the grand plan," Plagueis bowed his head as he spoke, kneeling before his one true master.

The man whom would destroy the old emperor and rebuild the empire, free from the constrains of tradition and xenophobia. A man who had created a greater plan than Bane's, and had taken his name as a result. Bane of the Sith, bane of the empire, and Plagueis suspected he would soon be the bane of the Jedi and the republic.

"The rule of all," the new dark lord announced, and Plagueis felt it, a tremor that shook his body, threatening to burst one of his hearts.

"The rule of all," Plagueis said, kneeling and declaring his allegiance to the grand plan.

* * *

 _This man had an idea, a dream, a dream that grew from that spark of hope inside of him. The hope that his planet would be free of the Sith. So over time he planned, he bided his time, and then he struck. Daylen Amell led the Ferelden rebellion and not only beat the Sith army, but a Sith lord as well. His actions proved that this enemy we fear so much, can be fought evenly with, can be beaten. The Sith have shown how evil they truly are, they destroyed the Dales, they destroyed Ferelden, nearly destroying Orzammar in the process. We aren't equals, we aren't even partners to them, just disposable slaves._

* * *

"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!"

"SUCH AGRESSION SHOULD NOT STAND!"

"ORZAMMAR WILL NEVER BE THE SAME!"

"REBELLION I SAY!"

"HERE, HERE!"

King Bhelen remained quiet as the dwarven elders yelled amongst themselves. He didn't care if they truly were ignoring him, youngest son of their former king, the one whom had delivered Orzammar to the empire in the first place. Already Branka had jeopardised the people's loyalty with her scheme to create golems. Now this, people were fearful of the giant hole in their ceiling. Much of Orzammar had been crushed, and it echoed through the deep roads too. The creatures of the roads migrated, and according to the legion, the darkspawn were on the move.

'Armies are being built everywhere, potential enemies on the surface, potential enemies in the stars, and the enemies we've always had on our own turf,' Bhelen thought and thought about every possibility.

He considered maintaining his agreement with the empire, the people be damned. They protected them from the dark spawn, yet they had just done more damage to their kingdom in a couple of minutes than the darkspawn had managed in thirty years. The nobility and the dusters were united in their singular hatred of the empire. It both warmed and infuriated Bhelen, to know his people were finally united, only they couldn't decide where to direct that anger.

'Then there are the armies in my own home, waiting to throw me off of the throne,' Bhelen thought.

At that moment, the grand door of the shaperate was swung open. Bhelen kept his hand on his blaster as dwarves in old armour kept the door open. A single dwarf walked between the squad, removing his helmet and revealing the burnt visage of a man Bhelen hoped he would never see. Other than the burn mark, that had left him beardless on his right side, the dwarf bore a resemblance to Bhelen. The king of the dwarves stood up, narrowing his eyes at the man.

"Duran," he called to his brother.

"Bhelen, this is what you have done to our people, this is what the Sith did with the lyrium you let them keep. I've helped to depose one king today, and he was knocked out like a bitch, do I have to do the same thing with you?" Duran Aeducan, second son of the former king asked, taking a few steps towards his brother.

"The shaperate chose me, because I gave them peace," Bhelen retorted, standing up and fully drawing his pistol.

Duran remained fearless, hands raised as if waiting for an applause. He looked at the members of the shaperate and then at Bhelen.

"They'll choose me brother because I will give them freedom, tell me brother, how many of our people have to suffer under their oppression for you to realise that we will never be valued by the Sith?" Duran asked, gradually walking closer and closer towards Bhelen.

"I, I, I don't want any of our people to die, but they inevitably will die no matter what choice I make," Bhelen stated, gripping the pistol with both hands, trying to stop himself from shaking.

"So let them die free, let them die with their pride, let them die as your people and not the Sith's slaves. You wanted to be their king brother more than I, then be their king, not the Sith's lap dog. That goes for all of you, whom claim to want what is best for our people, whom claim to be dwarves, yet have allowed our roof to be shattered. You should be ashamed of yourselves, I know your ancestors would be," Duran explained.

He turned on his heel and marched out. Bhelen lowered his pistol and looked at where Duran had been.

'Does he still not want the throne?' he wondered.

But the king realised, he had not come back to take the throne. He had come back to, in his own way, ask for help. It was an invitation into the growing rebellion. A rebellion that had just shown that it could stand and face the empire, and win. An opportunity, if Bhelen had ever seen one. And one thing he was good at, was seizing opportunity.

* * *

 _Daylen Amell knew this from the beginning, he knew that we weren't valued by the empire. He knew that so long as we would be underneath them, we would be nothing but a mineral source, a breeding ground for cannon fodder. They destroyed the Dales, they destroyed Ferelden, they were willing to destroy them. How long before they destroy Orlais, or the Marches, or Nevarra, how long before they wipe out our entire planet? You could say 'so long as we are useful to them' but that isn't a healthy belief. Nor is it one that can survive, in this wide galaxy, they can just find another planet. The only way we can be safe is to fight._

* * *

Kremisius took a seat at the camp. Not lavish, organised imperial camp, but the rundown camp of rebels. Men and women of Tevinter, like him, who were tired of the empire's rule. Farm hands equipped themselves with blaster rifles, slaves with broken chains prepped armour. Swords were sharpened and ammunition gathered. The former Sith trooper calmly watched, a sword strapped to his back and E-11 blaster at his side, he watched as the rebels drew into the sand a rudimentary layout of the imperial base. Krem noticed in particular the drawing of the imperial walker. He nodded to the commander, whom gave him the order to lead.

Then they fought.

* * *

 _Daylen Amell fought, fought and united a group of people, whom never would have been able to fight the empire on their own. He sacrificed himself so that that unity could be kept. That is our greatest strength, our unity. We can't be held back by our petty differences any longer._

* * *

An explosion rocked the Ostwick circle. Meredith had never heard such cheering from the mages, or her knights. Not when they were together at least, in fact, the idea of them working together, as anything more than watchers and charges, was unthinkable to her. At least before, now, she led a charge to free mages. Her grey and red armoured knights clashed with the white and red troopers of the imperial loyalists. Their melee weapons, stun batons, took time to charge. But red blades, dragon bone swords, they needed no cool down. Templars beat down knight-troopers, and freed mages. Sith acolytes whom had forgotten their magic, easily fell to mages whom had trained more in elemental arts than the force. Meredith stopped for a moment to see the results of her rebellion. Templars broke the locks of doors that bound mages to their towers. They ran alongside them, trusting them, not behind to watch them. Most impossibly, Orsino stood beside her, an equal, a partner in this rebellion.

'Maker, have I cast aside my duty?' she wondered.

She was broken from her distraction by the sudden flashing of a barrier in front of her. A barrier Orsino had created, blocking a volley of blaster fire. They nodded as Meredith drew her great sword from her back. Running alongside the mage, his snake headed staff dragging against the ground, Meredith raised her sword over her head. When they got closer to the troopers, Orsino converted his barrier into a mana blast, hitting one of the troopers. Meredith crashed her sword through the neck of another trooper, then amputated another. Orsino released a jet of cold steam from his hand, freezing a trooper in place. The Knight-Commander then beheaded the trooper she amputated, crashing her blade and shattering the ice statue, all with one swing of her sword.

'No,' she thought. 'This Elthina, is my duty, the empire is not the will of the maker, I will fight to restore our beloved chantry, alongside all mages who would see us free from the heretic empire.'

Knight-Commander and First Enchanter raised their weapons, before charging again into the fight.

* * *

 _The empire keeps slaves, is held back by its xenophobia, and we've proven that we can fight them. So we'll fight them, we'll resist them, and together we will fight to protect our freedom. Because this is our planet, not theirs. They are not gods, they can bleed, and they can be beaten._

* * *

A trooper camp was burning, burning in the deep roads. The Architect of this attack watched as his brethren gathered the weapons of the dead troopers into a pile. His brethren, once mindless, now free of that dreaded song. Free to fight this empire that threatened to eradicate them. Or worse, use them. They had already tried, long before they began their occupation. Because of that, one of them had left the planet, and had taken his taint with him.

"We must prepare," the Architect said. "For the Seeker's return."

* * *

 _There is a chance to win. We are so full of potential, there are spells waiting to be discovered. Advancements in our technology waiting to be made. Not only that, but there are secrets in this world, wonders waiting to be found._

* * *

Leliana ducked underneath the rocks. The cavern was deep, but luckily unprotected. The dwarves didn't venture here, nor did the empire or the dark spawn. They were too fearful of 'the demons and ghosts' that protected this ancient site. Alistair shivered behind her, their escorts, Zevran, Sten of the Qunari and Oghren both cautiously following them.

"What are we doing here Leliana?" Alistair asked.

"Fulfilling my mission, using this key that the resistance gave me, that people were killed in Kirkwall to get too," she reminded him of all that had happened to get them there.

She removed her gloves, putting the chip into her hand. It quickly imbedded itself in her skin. Then she resumed the walk, down the naturally formed walkway, deeper and deeper into the abyss. They finally found it, the pillars and hallways of some kind of ancient site. Strange round, ethereal objects began floating around the hallways. Their forms continually rotated, one shocking Oghren.

"Sodding!" he snarled, raising his axe.

"Lower your axe," Leliana warned him.

Suddenly, two creatures came down from the ceiling. They made a deep, metallic humming sound as they raised their weapons, guns clearly. They were technological, their armour metal, the carapace on their necks metal, the multiple glowing green dots on their eyes technology. But then there was the layers of veins and flesh that covered the creature's limbs. Its head possessed metallic mandibles, all of which were attached to the scales that stretched past its head, Leliana could see the flesh on the back of the creature's head.

"All of you stay calm, they're just guards," Leliana said.

She raised her hand, an ethereal, orange gauntlet of some kind appeared over it. The glowing round objects shot a light across Leliana's arm, beeping with acceptance. As the odd ghost like orbs floated away, the guards put their rifles to a resting position. The orbs floated into indentations on the wall, spreading their light through the lines across the wall. It slid open and Leliana's group walked forward. They walked into a chamber overlooked by a grand walkway, one they walked over in wonder. Even Sten's face showed a hint of intrigued.

"Incredible, this was here all this time?" Alistair asked.

"It was only discovered because of the empire's dig for lyrium. They dug further and less cautiously than dwarves or even darkspawn," Leliana explained.

At the end of the walkway was a small console, which possessed no buttons or slots. Leliana walked up to it, the gauntlet still on her arm. She put her hand on the console, and the energy on it began sweeping down the console. But instead of an orange light, the chamber flickered green, before a blue hologram appeared. It was a person, her form flickered and voice cracked, but the group could tell it was a person.

"If you're hearing this, then there is still hope," she said.

Her voice cracked and static filled their ears.

"We failed...fought as united galaxy...information in this capsule...before it's too late," the holographic woman flickered before she faded.

"What was that?" Alistair asked.

"Good body, better voice," Zevran grinned.

"Seriously, that's the direction she took you in?"

"Where else is there my dwarven friend?"

"This site is ancient, perhaps it is some echo of the civilisation that built it," Sten suggested.

Leliana nodded her head in agreement.

"To keep this place going, it must have drawn power from the lyrium, but certain information had to be saved, so systems were corrupted. Let's see what it contains," Leliana hummed as she raised her gauntlet, tracing her finger across the interface that appeared over it.

Some kind of machine appeared, it reminded Leliana of a corkscrew with a ball attached to it. Whatever it was, it was massive, but not what the rebellion needed. She traced her finger across the interface again, pushed a few buttons, then smirked. Her companions gasped as she opened her hand, and numerous images appeared. Armour, guns, fighters, blue prints and scientific formulas, locations on the planet and information on materials.

"This is it, everything we need to get it started, to even the odds," Leliana said.

Alistair smiled, stepping up to Leliana's side. Her smirk turned into a smile with her teeth as she looked at Alistair. Unconsciously they linked hands. But soon afterwards a sad expression crossed their faces.

"He should be here for this," Alistair said.

Leliana nodded her head, resting her head on Alistair's shoulder.

* * *

Loghain tapped his finger against the table. He was impatient, Anora and Cathrien could see that. But more importantly he was angry, and that anger was dangerous. Considering who they were meeting, it could cost them. Loghain however took a deep breath, remembering everyone who had died to get him here, and those whom were simply lost to them. He would rather it be a different man than Gaspard De Chalons walking through the door. The Orlesian general was flanked by a younger blonde haired soldier, and an older man, Rainier, if Loghain remembered correctly.

"Lord Mac Tir," the man bowed his head slightly.

"De Chalons," the Fereldan's hand unconsciously drifted to his sword.

"My condolences on your homeland, and thanks for destroying that monstrosity, regardless of the results of this meeting, we will always remember the sacrifice of your men," Gaspard explained.

"They weren't my men," Loghain said.

Gaspard took a seat, just as another group entered the room. Magister Pavus, his son Dorian and friend Alexius. The younger Pavus smirked slightly at the glares the two men shot them.

"So this is what we are reduced to," Loghain muttered.

"It seems we are," Gaspard agreed, sharing Loghain's contempt for the Tevinter imperium.

"Well, we're off to a fine start here," Dorian chuckled.

Pavus shushed his son and sat down. Another moment passed and another group entered, Meredith, Orsino and their lieutenants, then another, Zathrian, Lanaya and Swiftrunner, then came representatives of the Montilyet traders, Castillon of the Felicisma smugglers, the Qunari Arishok and many others, Dalish elf keepers, mages and templars. The room was filled and all eyes turned to a hooded woman, falling silent as she removed her hood.

"I am Dorethea, before the empire arrived...no even still I consider myself a servant of the maker, before the founder of the resistance. My hand Leliana is out there now, looking for ancient secrets that can help to drive the empire from our world. But that is not enough," the woman looked at the many faces across the room, different races, different countries and religions, all in the same room, and very uneasy about it.

"We cannot be driven apart by our differences anymore. The galaxy is too big for one absolute belief, and no one group will be able to defeat the empire," she elaborated.

Everyone in the room remained silent as Dorethea looked towards Loghain. He felt their eyes on him, but he knew they were looking for someone else. There was only one thing he could tell them, the same thing the dwarf Varric was writing, a lie.

"I did not win Ferelden back, I did not save our planet from a monstrous weapon. It was Daylen Amell, he sacrificed himself because he believed that we could work together, that we shared one common wish. For the future of our world to be ours, and not the empire's. Was he wrong? I keep asking myself that question? Did he waste his life hoping, preparing for rebellion? Did he waste his sacrifice?"

Loghain looked around the room, waiting for an answer.

"He did not," Gaspard suddenly said. "I will fight the empire, I would be honoured to fight with you!"

Loghain nodded his head in begrudging respect, and Dorothea smiled as Magister Pavus and his son stood.

"We know the general belief is that we're the embodiment of all evil, but we hope fighting real evil will help our reputation."

"We will stand," the Arishok said.

One by one the leaders of the group stood, putting fists to their hearts or bowing their heads. Dorothea placed her hands on the table, still smiling.

"Then on this night, the rebel alliance, will be born," she said. "Leliana will find a means to fight evenly with the empire, but for now, I wanted to introduce you to another ally, you can come out."

Out of the shadows came a tall alien, a Muun in red and purple robes. He nodded to the rebel leaders, Loghain in particular.

"Thank you Dorothea, and hello to you all, I am Hego Damask, let us discuss the future of how your people will wage war!"

* * *

Ruins-Determination

Someone was searching, searching for someone he loved very much. Irving never had children, had been in love only once. But the circle was both a safe, and cruel life, in that he could never feel things as others did. After years of being tranquil, all the emotions he had a not felt in years rushed through him. He felt angry with the empire, felt happy that someone was finally standing up for them, but there was an overpowering sense of sadness within him to. He had lost someone, they were not dead, he knew that much. He knew that much, that the person he loved, like a son was still alive. Just lost, and in need of someone's help.

Irving searched the dust and ruined grounds of the circle tower. Tears in his eyes and legs quivering from exhaustion. He looked up at the sky, not realising that night had passed and that the stars were out. Daylen loved to look at the stars, and Irving remembered fondly the days they would actually get to go outside, before the incident with Anders. He remembered when the boy would lie down on the grass and look up at the stars, pointing at each of them, naming the constellations. There was so much hope in his eyes that Irving knew he'd achieve great things.

He swore he'd find him, and save him.

* * *

Ruins-Hatred

Someone had found what he loved most. They were both gone, taken from him, only their ashes remaining. The bald elf cupped the ashes of his son, dropping them to the floor. He collapsed to his knees, he sorrow too much for him to bear. Years of happiness, all wasted, for the cruel truth was that they would never be safe. Even without the empire, the world was destined to destroy all that it didn't understand. It was destined to never be pure, the past was romanticised, and the future was bleak.

Solas saw it all too often, the Dalish in their ignorance merely interpreted the past. The humans took power and destroyed all the wonders of Thedas, enslaved one another, spreading their made up gods. It was different to a degree, but still very much like what the Evanuris were doing. His brothers and sisters trapped in the fade, whilst this false world replaced it. His people lived forever, now they were as frail as humans. They weren't truly elves anymore. But for all that had been taken from him, the empire and the rebellion had at least reminded him of what he truly was. His eyes glowed blue as he looked at the ash ridden ground, clutching his orb, the means to achieve his dream, as tightly as he had held his son.

Fen'harel vowed that he would end it all, the empire, the rebellion, humanity, the entire world would be destroyed. He would restore the world that was, and have his revenge.

* * *

Space

Keili felt the slight shake of the ship, as it climbed the atmosphere. Though Kaius himself never acknowledged her as such, she was still his apprentice, entitled to all that he had. Including the ship his master once owned, the Solo-Caedus. The protocol droid with them was piloting the ship on her commands, placing in the computer the calculations for the jump to light speed. Keili nodded her thanks to the droid as she walked to the cargo chamber.

"He ruined you," Keili whispered, kneeling at his side.

She cupped his cheeks, only for comfort. She didn't want him like this, broken and pathetic. The passions within her were still strong, unlike the determination in him. His red eyes empty, almost as if he was tranquil.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you, we'll go far away from here," she kissed his forehead, laid him on his side and placed the blanket over him.

Her eyes drifted to her master's final gift to him, the holocron. She would lock it away, just in case she needed it. But he would never fight again, she desperately vowed to keep him away from it all.

"We'll run away from it all, to a galaxy, far, far away!"

She turned away from her loved one, and went back to the middle room of the ship. There she began to consider what she might do to Daylen. Apparently the force could do terrible things to a mind. But perhaps it could do good things to the mind too. Maybe she would alter his mind just enough, make him forget the circle, make him forget everything he had endured. All of his friends. Keili felt something at that moment, a severe pressure in her head. She rushed to the cargo bay.

* * *

 _"Get up,"_ they all told her, all of those voices he heard. Petra's voice, Niall's voice, Tabris's, Cousland's, so many people were telling him to move. His body scream as he did, limping, leaning against the wall. He was in a ship, that much he knew, the gravity didn't feel natural, he felt lighter and that wasn't because he only had his trousers on. Going into one of the tube like hallways, he calmed his breathing as much as he could.

"Daylen," he heard Keili call out to him, heard her search his makeshift bedroom.

He looked at the path ahead, every corridor was a way to a different room, to a different place that Keili would catch him. Then he looked ahead and gasped. Standing in front of him was the ghostly form of Kinnon.

"Hey Daylen," he said.

Daylen shook his head, moving down the corridor, hearing Keili getting closer and closer.

"Cut through the training room, on your right, there's a lever on the worktable," Kinnon said.

Increasing the speed of his limping, Daylen did as the ghost said. It was just his own head, telling him how to survive. The lever was there, in the circular room, and he pulled it. Several whooshes signalled the generation of training remotes, and over his shoulder Daylen saw Keili rushing into the room.

"Day wait," she pleaded.

She walked into the training circle, and following their programming, the remotes swarmed at her. Whoever set up the program was clearly an intense training, as the remotes fired shots that singed Keili's neck, back and knees. They circled her, pelting her with annoying attacks again and again. She pushed them aside with the force, continuing her pursuit of Daylen. Rushing into one of the living quarters, she was ignorant of the presence of a ghost. Niall leant against the wall, watching Keili scan the room with her eyes. He looked up at Daylen, he was on one of the top bunks, just hidden from Keili's view.

"You know, I can understand why you never saw a future with her, oh my," he gasped as a fireball appeared in Keili's hand.

Daylen could hear Keili's angry breathing, the growth of the flame in her hand. His mana pool was low, not enough yet to attack her, certainly not enough to beat her. He pushed his hand against the wall, feeling the ship's flight through space. Maybe just maybe, he could get her to leave the room, to forget him for just a moment. Shifting the fade for but a moment, he conjured a mere vibration, just a little shake. As an Earth spell it was pitiful, but to shake the ship, it formed the illusion of an attack.

"RA-7, RA-7," Keili called out to the protocol droid, rushing into the rec room, then the cockpit canopy.

He jumped off of the bunk, biting his lip to keep himself from yelling in pain. Stomping through the corridor, he entered the recreational room, just as Keili entered the cockpit. The RA-7 model protocol droid informed her of no attack.

"The ship shook, what did you hit?" she demanded.

"I assure you Lady Keili, I did not so much as brush against debris," he said, voice bearing just a hint of indignation.

Daylen scanned the room for anything he could use. There was a data pad on the circular sitting area, in the middle of the circle was a game's table. Grabbing the pad and wedging himself between the table and chair, he waited for Keili to come into the room. She was in a one sided argument with the droid, whom was trying to rationalise the waiting time for a light speed jump. Daylen had heard of the delicate process, the calculations involved. She stormed in the room and he caught a glimpse of her eyes, yellow, with slight wrinkles on her cheeks.

"Force degradation, I have heard of it," the ghostly form of Greagoir said, looking at Keili and shaking his head. "Devotion to the Maker is not always the makings of a good mage, Keili's hatred of her power made her as dangerous as any other mage unlucky enough to be the target of abominations. I anything, her faith made her even more of a target for corruption."

When Keili moved, walking in another direction, Greagoir moved his head in the direction she went in. He waited a few seconds, before nodding to Daylen. The ghost disappeared as Daylen crawled out of his hiding place, he walked to another corridor, hugging the wall as best he could. Keili was again in the cargo area, throwing aside objects he might be hiding behind.

"Hey, over here," a pair of voices said to Daylen.

Daveth and Dworkin were both stood by the airlock. The former thief pointed his finger at one of the switches. Walking over, Daylen pushed the button, opening the first airlock door. He walked a few steps back, hiding at the ladder to one of the gunnery canopies. Then he threw the data pad into the airlock area. Keili once again stormed towards the area, walking into the airlock and picking up the pad. Gathering all his strength, Daylen launched himself towards the button, closing the door behind Keili. Out of instinct she banged angrily against the door, giving him time to seal it.

"Nice one, now blow the airlock," Dworkin said.

"No, she was Daylen's beloved once," the ghost of Jory said.

"Fuck off Jory, no one wants you here," Daveth countered.

Walking through the spectres, Daylen ignored Keili's rage filled yells and limped to the cockpit.

"Cancel the jump to light speed, send us back to Thedas," Daylen said.

"As you command lord Daylen," the protocol droid said.

"Lord?" the mage raised in eyebrows in confusion.

"Indeed, Lord Kaius counted you as his apprentice in his will, this ship and everything in it, including myself and my counterpart T4-J4 are now your property," the droid explained.

"You're certainly heading up in the world," Petra said, causing Daylen to jump in surprise. "I'd hide again Daylen, got a feeling that Keili won't have taken your locking her in the airlock move lightly," she explained.

He heard a banging sound and knew that Keili was free. She'd broken the airlock door with the force, and would be storming towards him any moment now.

"T4 if you can hear me, distract her," he called out.

It hurt to even speak, his throat was dry. He never realised how dehydrated he was before. That probably explained the hallucinations.

"Hallucinations, that's nice," Tabris huffed.

The astromech droid rolled towards Keili, bumping her side. She pushed the annoying droid. Daylen hopped out of the cockpit, trying to make it to the cargo area again. He felt his body seize, and was slowly turned towards Keili. She was holding her hand out, and Daylen felt a subtle pressure on his neck. Suddenly, electricity swept through Keili's body. T4 had opened one of its compartments, revealing a taser. It backed away from Keili, opening a compartment on its head and releasing extinguisher foam. Keili screamed, feeling the currents singe her skin. She picked the droid and slammed it against the wall so hard that its head snapped off.

"YOU!" she screamed, turning towards Daylen and grabbing him again.

She threw him against the wall, then held him by the neck and dangled him over the floor. He gripped at his neck with one hand, legs thrashing about as he gasped for air. Taking in the look of fear in his eyes, Keili felt as thrilled as she had when she killed those elves. Then she slammed Daylen back first against the ground. Once, then twice, then a third time.

"I tried so hard, to be loyal to the Maker, whilst loving a man who despised him, you who embraced your power, you who loved it, loved the fact that we were monsters," she explained.

Her skin turned grey, hair black as she began to approach Daylen. He tried to get up off of the floor, only for currents of electricity to fly from Keili's fingers. The pain was immense, but he was able to take a knee, squeezing his hand into a fist.

'Still not enough mana,' he thought.

"Since the day we kissed, you have haunted me, I'm haunted by that passion we should never had shared, you are in my very soul, tormenting me and the very thought of not having you. I love you Daylen, truly, deeply love you," Keili explained.

"That sounds more possessive than loving," Merrill's ghost said.

Keili released another torrent of force lightning, making Daylen scream.

"But you have too much love in you don't you, too much for any one person. It isn't sex, it's those pathetic feelings of yours, even now after all I have done, you can't bring yourself to strike me down, the same way you can't bring yourself to strike down anyone," she stated, licking her lips as Daylen banged the floor and yelled.

"Oh get over yourself, he doesn't have the mana to attack you," Lily's ghost said.

"But there is something else he can use," Ash's ghost said.

Grabbing Daylen again, Keili smacked him against the wall, pinning him there.

"You're right Keili, I couldn't truly love you the way you wanted before," Daylen's voice cracked as he spoke. "I didn't want anyone to die, not even Kaius, not even Uldred, even if people hated me, I still wanted them to live. The same way I want you to live now," he explained.

Keili gripped his cheeks with her hand, pushing him harder against the wall.

"Let go of your anger Keili, your maker will never bless you if you keep doing this, people will never love you back if you keep doing..."

Daylen's voice muffled, Keili's tongue had gone black, and she was shoving it down his throat. She moaned, savouring the kiss and Daylen's struggles. A trail of saliva linked their mouths as she pulled away, sighing in ecstasy.

"You're afraid, afraid that you'll have to kill me, that I'll kill you, oh Daylen, I'm not going to kill you," she whispered into his ear, licking it.

With a flick of her hand she threw Daylen towards one of the gunnery ladders. She stood in front of him as he tried to get up, stomping on his hand so hard he felt three of his fingers break.

"Now it doesn't matter what you use, force or magic, you can't direct it without a hand," she held her own hand out.

Daylen felt the pressure on his brain, felt Keili begin to tamper with his mind. To fill it with the teachings of the maker, and her own contradicting, sickening inner fantasies. All mages had to die in her eyes, she was a complete monster, but that was okay because she loved and worshipped the Maker. The Maker whom was divine, all knowing, and above even morality.

"You will love me, you will be my apprentice, we will take the teachings of that Holocron, find a world of our own, and rule. Embrace the dark side embrace me," she said.

Daylen grit his teeth together, looking up at Keili. She was stood in front of the third ladder leading to a gunnery canopy. He had his index finger and thumb left, maybe, just maybe.

"I see your mind Daylen, a targeted wave won't work, simply pushing me won't stop me, I will never stop, not until you have become, what I wish you to become," Keili laughed.

He raised his hand, weakly, but gradually his eyes became set, determined. His finger and thumb connected, and dragged against one another, light building between them. When he flicked his fingers, a bit of fire flew past Keili, making her step back slightly. It was small, and insignificant spark and Keili laughed at it.

"Pathetic, truly pathetic," she said.

His finger and thump tips had blisters on them. Suddenly, the ship shook and Keili looked towards the cockpit.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Fighters Lady Keili, we are being pursued by Tie Fighters," the protocol droid said.

Keili grit her teeth together, but still focused on Daylen, even as blaster fire struck the hull. Daylen looked at his hand, then at Keili. She was unstable, whatever good was in her before, replaced with insanity. Incapacitating her would break his remaining finger, and rob him of any chance to use the ship's guns.

"Droid, use last known light speed coordinates, get us out of here now," he said.

"Calculations were half way complete, all that is needed is a few adjustments," the droid explained.

"Yes Daylen, let us leave this pathetic galaxy behind, let us go far, far away," she said.

She walked away from him, into the recreational room.

"Take us to our new home, Maker, protect us with your divine light," she raised her hands and laughed.

An explosion shook the ship, and a hole was torn through it. Daylen hooked his stump onto the ladder, looking at the hole and Keili. The vacuum sucked the protocol droid out, taking the pilot's chair with him. But Keili however remained floating, firm and strong. Whatever she had become, was not something Daylen wanted to go to another galaxy with. He'd rather die alone than with her. Jaw set, finger pushing against his thumb, he locked the killer intent on Keili.

'Here is the peace in death, I could never give you in life Keili,' he thought.

His finger snapped as he flicked, releasing a wave of blue energy that threw Keili out of the ship. Just as she was thrown out, a Tie-fighter swooped in, breaking her neck on its wing. The vacuum passed and Daylen looked ahead towards the cockpit. Jowan was there, pointing at a lever. The fighters were adjusting their course for another attack, there was so little time. Daylen pushed off of his spot, he needed just another bit of force magic. He held his breath, no air, but just a spark of mana was needed. Putting his thumb into his mouth, he flicked, bruising the edge of his mouth. But it did the trick, the force of mana generated from the flick was enough to push the lever.

The ship entered light speed, and left Daylen's home galaxy.

He put his broken hand to his neck, feeling himself begin to suffocate. What fluid he had left began to freeze, rising as bile from his mouth. He couldn't die, he couldn't allow himself to die, not yet.

"Just let it in," the annoying ghosts told him.

'The force, a mere energy field, wait, that's it.'

It was all so simply, he concentrated, connected to the force again. Felt everything around him, the meteorites in the debris field his ship had jumped into, the creatures living inside them. Far away, a group of people, astonished by the ship's sudden appearance. Even further away a planet filled with life.

'Forget the life, focus on the energy, draw from it like you would mana,' he told himself.

Then with a yell none in space could hear, it happened. Shadows consumes his body, a field of light surrounded him, the darkness replaced his lost and broken limbs and his eyes glowed. Like a sun he glowed, he didn't need air, he didn't need mana. He was both, the fade and the force, one with them, but heart still beating strong, drawing from them. He floated into the cargo hold, noting that the holocron was still there, floating about. Closing his eyes, he hugged his knees and put every bit of concentration he had into maintaining this fused link between fade and force. Then, desperately trusting in the force, he released a plead.

'Help me, help me, help me!'

He heard the voices again, less chaotic now, clearly as if they were standing right next to him. Through them all, he heard Jowan's voice.

 **"The force will be with you, always!"**

He wouldn't die, not today, he would find a way back home. And free it from the empire, once and for all.

Next Season 2: Force of others

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the story, it's been a great time writing it, and I'm looking forward to publishing the sequel, when Daylen will truly explore the galaxy far, far away.

With the finale, I make somewhat of a confession. This wasn't just a crossover with Dragon Age and Star Wars, more secrets will be discovered next Season.

To look forward to next Season:

The Rebel alliance is born and commences its war with the empire. Thedas and its people will further evolve and develop as they make more discoveries and advancements. Loghain and Gaspard, Ferelden and Orlais, once bitter enemies will have to work together to free their planet. The Tevinter Imperium is split, but not exactly welcome within the rebellion, still seen as the evil mages whom started the Blight, fortunately Dorian Pavus intends to redeem their reputation. Speaking of blights, the darkspawn rise, but are they allies of the rebellion? Or just another enemy?

All this as Daylen awakens in the old republic, and begins a desperate search for help against the rising power of the Sith.


End file.
